


A New Life

by krazyk2314



Series: A New Life Series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Crossroads Demon - Freeform, Demon with a conscious, Demons, F/M, Love, Reader Insert, demon reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:38:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 49,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5588002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazyk2314/pseuds/krazyk2314
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're a Demon who is trying to erase all the bad you've done, by helping the Winchesters. But the price to be good can be too much, even for a crossroads demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter lays the groundwork for the story, and doesn't include the Winchesters yet. They will show up next chapter, I promise!

You hadn't always been a bad person, a Demon. Once upon a time, or a long time ago, depending on how you want to start, you had been a very kind person. The type of person everyone looked up to and admired.

When you said a long time ago, you had meant it. You had been born in 1880, to a wealthy railroad tycoon and his trophy wife. Raised with the finer things, you should have been a spoiled brat. Instead, your parents raised you right, and you had grown into a kind person, one who trusted easily.

Straight out of boarding school, you had fallen in love with an up and coming stage actor. Your parents had been disappointed, and in the end, eventually cut you off from your inheritance.

You hadn't cared too much. At first it was hard, going from a life style of ease, to living in a tiny flat with barely enough food to survive on. Steven wouldn't let you work, he wanted you to dress nice and look pretty hanging off his arm. Steven, the love of your life, tried hard to find good work, but for an actor it wasn't always easy to find.

Then came the news, Steven was sick with the consumption. You worked hard to make him comfortable, but he wasn't the easiest patient. In one of his bouts of anger, he turned on you, telling you that it should be you dying, not him, he was too important to die this soon. For the first time in your short relationship, Steven raised his hand at you.

Upset, you ran, through the muddy streets, towards the end of town, where tents stood instead of houses, and men with missing teeth smiled at you lustfully. Ignoring the crude looks, you fled to the last road, falling on your knees in the middle, not caring that your favorite dress was ruined from the mud and the muck.

You noticed you were at a crossroads, four ways to chose where to go. Straight led into the forest, behind you led back to town, or to the unknown on each side. Sobbing, you begged, for anyone listening, to help. You were so lost and broken. So different from the girl who was so popular when she had graduated boarding school a mere two years ago.

You were shocked when someone answered your plea, and you looked up into the face of a well dressed man. He pulled you to your feet and offered you a deal, Stevens life for your soul. At first you had laughed, knowing there was no way this was plausible. But then the man flashed his eyes at you, showing he was indeed a Demon. At first you were scared, ready to turn and run, but he gently grabbed your arm and assured you he wasn't there to hurt you, he was just trying to seal a deal.

Not knowing what else to do, you agreed, giving your soul up for Stevens health. You had already given up your life, and your wealth for Steven, how big of a deal was your soul?

The Demon promised that Steven would be okay, and that someoneed would be collecting your soul. Nodding your head you agreed, and the man shocked you by pressing his lips against yours. Confused you had asked how long you had, and the Demon laughed before leaving. In the wind you could still here his voice, soon, it answered.

Still shocked, and exhausted from the whirlwind of emotions, you trudged back to your flat, ignoring all the intrigued stares of people you passed, curious as of what you would see when you returned. Would Steven be as you had left him, angry and sick? Or was the Demon real and Steven would be healthy and happy once again?

Leaning against the flaking wooden door, you take a deep breath before Stepping inside. At once the smell of stale whiskey, and sickness wafted towards you, but the sight in front of you brought tears to your eyes. Steven was back to himself, standing up straight, his blonde hair once again silky. His once sunken cheeks were now rosy and plump, and he was no longer coughing.

You had jumped into his arms, ecstatic that he was healed, but he just pushed you away. In shock, you tried again, and this time he hit you, shoving you down on the ground. Crying, you kept asking why, but he kept kicking and kicking and soon you didn't have the strength to do anything but watch as he grabbed his personal items and your spare cash. 

Before leaving, he laughed in your face, saying the only reason he had been with you was because of your connections but they hadn't worked out, and now he was tired of you.

You watched as he left, and you had no clue what would happen to you now. The last of your money had left with Steven, you couldn't afford to stay in this loft on your own. Your parents had moved to the country side for a year, so you couldn't ask them to take you back.

As you sat there contemplating the lack of your future, you heard a familiar voice. The Demon was sitting at your table, smoking a cigar. Crouching down next to you, he explained that he knew this was going to happen, and he was being kind by coming so soon to collect your soul, instead of letting you become a prostitute. Heartbroken, you agreed, knowing you had no choice. 

___________________

Shaking your head, you cleared it from the thoughts of the past running through. There was no use in thinking about what happened, and what you could change. It was over a hundred years ago, and even though you weren't happy with the way things happened, you knew things could have been worse.

The Demon, whose named turned out to be Crowley, was a crossroads demon, one higher up in ranking. He had taken a liking to you, and because of it, you were able to skip most of the torture and torment new souls went through. Instead you became Crowleys intern, following in his footsteps. As the years passed, the evilness of hell had managed to sneak into your soul, turning the once kind and compassionate girl into one of the best crossroads demons in hell.

When Crowley became the King of Hell, he had begged you to follow him to court. Instead, you stayed where you were, content on making deals and taking souls. And that's where you met the Winchesters, who would change your world.


	2. Meeting the Winchesters

It was a normal day for you, if you could describe anything as normal in a Demon's life. Each day was spent the same, waiting to be summoned, giving that someone what they asked for, then repeating the process all over again. Somedays, you added collecting a soul to the process, but usually it was the same thing over and over. You knew you had once had a chance to move up in rankings, and Crowley would still honor that chance, but you didn't want it. At least being a crossroads demon meant you weren't in charge of torture, or killing. No matter how long you've been a Demon, you still couldn't handle the thought of torturing all those souls, or killing for the fun of it.

Instead, you stayed quiet and they let you live your life in as peaceful a situation as possible. Being a favorite of Crowley's, you were allowed to stay top side, and you had made a nice life for your self. That is, until someone ruined it all for you.

You were spending a quiet morning, sitting in your living room of your vintage house, reading a book from one of your favorite authors, when you felt the familiar tug and pull of being summoned. Saving your place in the book, you stood, and let yourself be transported to the place of calling. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face the summoner, wondering what was so important that they wanted to trade their soil for it.

"Yes?" You asked, your voice not hiding the boredom you felt. Glancing up through your red haze, you took stock of the person standing next to you. He was an older man, you could tell by the salt and pepper that ran through his hair and beard. He had weathered lines throughout his face, showing he was just as worn as the faded ball cap on his head

"I want to make a deal." He said, in a somewhat surprising higher voice, you had suspected a voice much more deep than what came out. 

"I figured that out already when you summoned me," Your sarcasm showing through, as you just wanted this to get over with. He strode closer, a slight tilt to his thin lips showing that he thought he had the upper hand.

You stood your ground, watching as he moved closer and closer, finally stopping when his nose was almost touching yours. Has this man never heard of personal space? You asked yourself, but stayed in place, not wanting to show any weakness. 

"What do you desire?" You asked, wanting to get away from this man who gave you the creeps. 

"You." He said, before shoving a bag over your head. You thrashed about, trying to transport away, but the man just laughed, before punching you in the stomach. "That's not going to work honey, you see, I drew a devils trap on the bag. Your mine now."

Your stomach dropped at the thought that you had been captured. You had always been so careful, so prepared, but you had been so bored today, that you messed up, and now it might just cost you your life. If you could call living as a demon, life.

You struggled as much as you could, but the devils trap weakened your power and strength, and the man was easily able to drag you along. You heard a car door open, before you were roughly pushed inside, your head slamming against the door frame. He shut the door behind you, and before you could even try to escape, the car started moving, tires squealing as they left the crossroads behind.

Time passed, and the car kept moving, and you quickly lost track of the turns it had made. Soon pavement turned to gravel, and gravel turned to dirt, before the car finally came to a screeching stop. You were roughly pulled from the car, a hand tightly grasped around your forearm.

You felt the cold metal belonging to the barrel of a gun pressed against your neck, and you laughed. "You know a gun won't harm me, right?"

"It might not kill you, but these are special shells, filled with holy water. Might not kill ya, but will hurt like hell."

Grudgingly, you let yourself be pulled along, deciding to go along for a little bit, and wait for a better time to try and escape. With the bag over your head your senses were dull, and you had no idea what type of situation you might be in. For all you knew, you could be heading toward a barn, or a grave dug just for you.

The hand holding your arm was rough, calluses covering almost every part of the palm. They could be from wielding a tool everyday to holding a gun. Closing off all other senses, you concentrated on the main power you used when summoned for a deal, your power of intuition. Once upon a time, when you were still a low intern, you had wished that power had been yours when you were human. For if you had had that power, you would have never gone with Steven, and the deal with Crowley would have never happened. 

But that was in the past, and you were no longer that sweet, naive little girl. Now you were a dangerous, evil, demon, at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

Your intuition was telling you this male was nervous, his palm sweaty, and you figured he hadn't handled too many demons before. Unable to read his mind, you could still tell he was out of his element, which worked in your favor, and he was desperate. 

He threw you into a chair, tying your arms with rope, before pulling the bag from your head. Wincing at the sudden brightness from the light overheard, you watched as he paced back and forth in front od you, showing he was extremely nervous. 

"If you let me go now, I promise I will forget all of this, and let you live." You tried reasoning with the man, but he just laughed at you, pointing the gun straight at you.

"Yeah right, why would I trust a demon? I let you go, you'll kill me." He countered. 

"Just tell me what you want." You said, trying to figure out what would drive this man to the point of kidnapping a demon.

"There's these two men, hunters, brothers, who are after me. I thought it would be better to have a Demon on my side, to protect me." He muttered, and you could tell he was beginning to give up on the plan.

"Why are they after you?" You asked, curious, but also to distract him as you started undoing the ropes around your wrists. 

He stopped pacing, and turned his back on you, a stupid mistake. You finished undoing the knots, and stood up, quietly moving towards him as he continued talking. You caught words about trap, and revenge, but you ignored the rest.

As he stopped taking, he turned to glance back at where you had been held, a look of surprise on his face.

"You really should have drawn a devils trap." You chastised him before flinging the gun from his grasp. He started shaking, from his hair to his boots, and you were afraid he was going to wet himself where he stood.

"Please don't hurt me, I just needed your help." He begged, and you took pity on the man.

"Next time, just ask." You said, before knocking him unconscious.

Frustrated, you started walking. Transportation would have been the easiest mode of transportation, but you needed to work off some of this tension and extra energy your kidnapping had zapped into you.

Glancing around, you took a moment to take in your surroundings. Your kidnapper had taken you to a small cottage in the middle of a forest, with one dirt road leading out. You took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the crisp air, before making your way down the road.

One mile turned into two, but you didn't mind. You were wearing sensible boots, and the fresh, cool air felt good against your face. Even though you no longer resided in hell, the scent of brimstone and fire would always haunt you.

Finally, you reached the end of the driveway, and you had three choices. You could either transport back to your boring house, or you could go west towards the clearing, or east where more trees lined the road. As you contemplated your decision, you saw a car making its way down the road, being driven fairly fast. Making sure you were out of danger, you watched as it sped closer and closer, the shiny black beast barreling down the road.

As it came closer, it started slowing down, and you knew you had been spotted. Taking a deep breath, you started thinking up a story, so they wouldn't notice you weren't exactly human.

The car idled to a stop, and you noticed two men were inside. The passenger door opened first, and a large male body unfolded itself from inside the car. He had to be at least 6'4", his body lanky, but not too skinny, you were sure he had plenty of muscles underneath the grey and blue plaid he wore. His hair was long, almost brushing the collar of his shirt, a warm brown color. His eyes were hazel, and guarded, as he gazed at you wearily. 

While you were busy studying the first man, the driver had taken the opportunity to climb out from behind the steering wheel. He was shorter than the other man, but still a giant compared to most. His body was lithe, but sturdy, his hair a spikey, sandy blonde. Even from your vantage point you could tell his eyes were green, a vibrant Kelly green that took your breath away.

For a moment, the three of you had a staring contest, each trying to read the other. Your intuition showed you they were hunters, dangerous for a Demon like you. But you couldn't resist the pull you felt from looking at the green eyed Adonis in front of you.

The tallest one was the first to speak, his voice smooth and steady. "I'm Sam, this is Dean. Is everything okay?"

You tried to remain calm, to not give away the fact that on the inside you were trembling. But you now knew who these men were, the famous Winchester brothers. You had been told stories about these men, they were a Demon's worst nightmare. They weren't to be messed with, and you had unknowingly walked right to them.


	3. New Friends

"Miss, are you alright?" A deep, masculine voice asked, breaking you out of your inner trembling. You noticed it was the shorter one who had spoken this time, the one called Dean. His voice was just as attractive as the rest of him, you thought to yourself. 

Thinking fast, you came up with a story. "I am now, thanks to your stopping for me. A mad man kidnapped me, and I managed to escape!" You said, staying as close to the truth as possible. 

You could tell it was working,  that these men seemed to have some sort of hero complex. Dean stepped closer, his hand moving from behind his back, holding it up to show you he didn't mean any harm. You took the opportunity, and threw yourself into his arms, doing everything you could to act like a damsel in distress. Dean tightened an arm around your waist, his other hand rubbing your back, trying to soothe you.

You caught the brothers sharing a look, and you could tell they were speaking without words. Waiting to see what would happen, you were ready to transport out at any moment, if something went wrong. But you were intrigued by these two men, and for the first time in a long time, you were facing something other than boredom and greedy, desperate people.

"I know you're scared, but can you take us back to where you were held? We want to make sure he can't hurt anyone else." Sam said.

You had a feeling they would get their way one way or another, so you gave in. Hopefully the man was long gone, and your secret would still be safe. 

Still cuddled into Dean's chest, you pointed to the dirt road behind you. "He held me in a cabin down there." 

Dean gently tilted your face, until you were looking up into his eyes. Eyes that were gorgeous from ten feet away, were even more brilliant up close. They were lined with a deep forest green, that slowly transitioned into a lighter, jade green color. It wasn't just the color that drew you in, it was the character shining through. His eyes held hints at the strong, but broken man hiding behind the layers of flannel he wore. They showed that he cared deeply, and would do anything for those he loved. It was something you realized you had never seen in Stevens eyes, only lust and greed. Dean's eyes were the eyes of someone you could fall in love with, if only you still had a heart. But your heart had been taken from you the moment Steven had walked out that door, and you turned to Crowley for solace. 

You realized Dean had been talking while you had been absorbed in the depths of his eyes, and you softy asked him to repeat.

"I know you're scared, but we will keep you safe. You'll stay in the car, while we take care of the bad guy. Then, we can take you into town, and back to your family. Okay?"

Grateful, you were glad they were giving you the chance to stay in the car. This way, if the man was still there, he might not give away the fact that you were a Demon. You knew starting a relationship on lies was never a good thing, but if Sam and Dean found out what you really were, you would be dead before you could snap your fingers.  

Dean guides you to the back seat of his car, and you settled onto the comfortable leather seat, waiting for Sam and Dean to climb back in. You watched as the both strode to the front of the car, enjoying the way both men walked with confidence. These were two men who were comfortable in their own bodies. 

Thinking back to when you first were turned into a demon, you remembered begging Crowley to let you keep your own appearance. At first he had refused, telling you it was simpler to take meat suits, but you weren't deterred.  He then tried explaining that it was more fun if you could turn into anyone,  with just the snap of your fingers. But you had wanted something to hold you to your old life, and your appearance was the only thing you had left. Your eyes were your fathers, your hair the same shade as your moms. It kept you tied to your previous human life, and when you felt like the evil was closing in on you, all you had to do was look in the mirror. Then you were reminded that you had once been a kind girl, the kind that had seen the best in each person.

While you were self reflecting, Sam and Dean had finished their conversation, and were in the process of sliding back into the car.

"Alright sweetheart, can I call you that? I don't even know your name. When we get there, I need you to stay in the car. Can you do that for me?" Dean asked, turning enough in the car so he could look you in the eyes.

"Y/N, and yes, I can do that." You replied softly, and soon the sound of a powerful engine starting was heard. The car pulled out, turning onto the dirt road you had just recently walked. The ride was quiet, both men lost in their own thoughts, and you stayed silent, not wanting to give anything away.

Sam turned to glance at you, a reassuring smile on his face. You were drawn to Sam too, but for a different reason. Sam seemed like someone you could bond with, become best friends with. He had the look of kindness in his eyes, and you knew he would gladly listen to anything you had to say, and not judge. For a second, you wished you could tell him the truth. But you knew if you did, you would be signing your own death warrant.

"Can you tell us anything about this man? Why did he kidnap you? Did you notice, or smell anything strange?" Sam asked, trying to figure out what they were dealing with.

Your plan was to stick as close to the truth as possible. "I have never seen that man in my life, but he kept muttering about needing help, and using me as a trap for revenge against somebody. But I have no idea why."

Sam nodded at your answer, and once again faced forward. What took you an hour to walk, took only minutes by car, and soon the beat up cabin came into view. Nervously you shifted in your seat, and the brothers took it as you being scared.

"Don't worry Y/N, we won't let anything happen to you. Just stay here and lock the doors after we've gone."

Nodding, you watched as both men inconspicuously checked their guns that were tucked in the back of their jeans before slowly moving towards the cabin. In a way you wished you could follow them, and make sure they would be okay. But you knew they could handle themselves, so you stayed where you were, wondering what would happen when they returned.


	4. Starting Fresh

Dean's P.O.V.

I quickly checked behind me, making sure the girl, Y/N, had stayed behind in my Impala. As soon as I had seen her, standing on the side of the road, my protective side had come out in full force, and I knew I would do anything to keep her safe.

I walked beside my brother, slowly making my way toward the small cabin, one that looked like it could crumble in on itself at any moment. He glanced at me, a thoughtful look on his face.

"What?" I hissed, knowing something was on his mind.

"How do you know we can trust this girl? For all we know, this could be a trap." He replied, thinking sensibly. 

I shrugged my shoulders, stopping at the door. We would have to finish this conversation later. The door was left open, part of the hinge seemed to be missing. Signing to Sam, he hid on one side, while I slowly glanced in the single room cabin.

Noticing no life forms, I made my way inside, Sam following behind, both our guns at the ready. Glancing around, I quickly noticed that no one had lived her for years, everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. In the middle of the room was a chair, the rope still around the arms and legs.

"It looks like somebody was held here against their will." Sam remarked, squatting down next to the chair.

"No shit sherlock," I replied, earning a bitch face from my brother.

"Well, do we trust her? There is no body here." Sam said, looking towards you for guidance. 

I thought carefully. It wasn't in our nature to trust easily, but there was something about that girl, the way she had stared at me, like she could see my soul. I might not trust her yet, but I wanted to know more about her. I was definitely drawn to her.

"It does look like her story could be true. I say we keep her with us for a while, see what happens." I said, before making my way back to the Impala, and Y/N, who in a short amount of time had already bewitched me.

Normal P.O.V.

Your mom had always said that idle hands were the devils workshop. Well yours were definitely not idle. While waiting for the brothers to return, your hands kept picking at the loose thread on the hem of your shirt, slowly making it longer and longer as you waited.

What seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, Sam and Dean finally came back from the cabin. They moved straight towards the car, and climbed right in. Dean turned to face you, and you almost felt faint from the heat of his gaze upon you.

"We scoured the entire cabin, no body. But we did see where you were held. He must have gotten away while you were walking. " Dean explained, while Sam watched curiously. 

"So what now?" You asked somewhat nervously,  wondering what their plan for you was. You knew you could always transport away if things became messy, but then they would know you were a Demon, and would probably hunt you down. 

"Now we head back to town, and get some grub. I'm starving, and I bet you are too." Dean said, turning back, and starting the engine. 

Sam glanced at you, before turning his gaze to the wind shield. "Why don't you catch some sleep, it's about an hour to the nearest town." 

You agreed, and curled your legs underneath you, leaning your head against the arm rest. Most Demons didn't eat or sleep, but you still did. You wanted to keep as many things as normal as possible, and that included your love for food, and a good night's sleep.

Before you knew it, someone was gently shaking you awake. "Hey princess, we're back at the hotel. Why don't you head in, Sam went to go get us food." Dean murmured quietly. 

It took you a while to wake up, you hadn't slept that well in a long time. Something about the movement of the car, the classic rock softly playing, and the security of having two men watching over you did wonders for your sleeping habit. Stretching, you caught Dean glancing where your tight black shirt had ridden up, showing a flash of skin. Blushing, you lowered your arms, and followed Dean as he made his way to one of the faded blue doors lining the outside of an older motel. He opened the door and you followed inside, standing nervously at the door, waiting to see what would happen next.

He threw his duffle bag on the table, before heading straight for the bathroom. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he noticed you still standing by the door.

"Make yourself at home. There's beer in the fridge, and the remotes on the nightstand. I'll be out soon." He said, before continuing on.

You move to the fridge, pulling out a beer and glancing at the label. It was your everyday run of the mill beer, one that had just taken off when you were human. Taking the top off you took a sip, wincing at the bitter taste. You had forgotten how bitter beer could be, you hadn't had one for a long time, except for a sip every now and then.

"Not a beer fan?" Dean asked from the door of the bathroom, and you shook your head no. A smile on his face, he took the bottle from you, taking a long drink before setting it down on the table. The movement seemed innocent but at the same time, incredibly intimate. 

Dean took a step towards you, stepping into what you considered your personal bubble. He reached his hand up, and gently brushed a stray piece of hair away from your face. "Are you okay? I know you've had a lot of things happen in a short amount of time."

A part of you wanted to step back, away from the personal contact that you haven't had since Steven, but another part of you wanted to step forward into Dean's arms to see how far he would take it. Before you could make a decision, Sam burst through the door, multiple fast food bags in his hands. The three of you sat down at the table, and dug into the hamburgers. 

"So Y/N, do you have any family that we can return you back to?" Sam asked, around a mouthful of burger. Looking down at the fry you were ready to inhale, you sadly shook your head.

"No family, they died quite a while ago." You said sadly, and truthfully. 

"A job, or a home?" He dug on, before glaring at Dean. Dean must have kicked him under the table or something. 

"Not really. I had a job, but I won't be missed." You answered, truthfully. None of the other Demons really cared for you, so they left you alone. The only one who ever visited you was Crowley, but the visits had stopped about a year ago. 

"Would you like to stay with us?" Dean asked, earning a bitch face from Sam. "I have to warn you, we don't have normal jobs, or hours, but with us you would be safe from that man in case he came after you again."

Glancing at Dean, you could tell that he actually wanted you to join them. You considered your options, heading back to your job of a crossroads demon, or embarking on a trip of untold surprises.

"If you don't mind, I would like to stay with you for a while," You answered, almost timidly. "But, what is your job?" You already knew, but you were curious as to their answer.

Dean and Sam shared one of their unspoken conversations before both turning their gaze back to you. "We are hunters. We hunt monsters."


	5. Secrets

They both stared at you, waiting for you to laugh, or scream, or run out of the door, not looking back. They weren't prepared for how calmly you took the news.

"Monsters are real?" You asked curiously. "Was the guy who kidnapped me a monster?"

Dean scooted his chair closer to yours, taking your hands between his large rough ones. "I know this is a lot to take in, but yes, monsters are real. Demons, vampires, ghosts, you name it, we've killed it. However, I think the guy who kidnapped you was just a creepy human, we didn't notice anything out of the ordinary."

You watched as one of his thumbs soothingly rubbed the back of your hand, the slight contact running a bolt of electricity straight through you. You had never felt anything like it, and it excited and frightened you at the same time. 

"If I stay with you, can you teach me to hunt?" You asked, knowing you were stupid for suggesting it, but you were tired of being evil, you wanted to do some good for a change. Being a hunter and a Demon would be hard, but you were willing to give it a shot.

Ignoring Sams disapproving look, Dean nodded his head. "Of course. But we would start small, mainly research. Hunting is dangerous, and I don't want to see you getting hurt princess."

"I'm in!" You said excitedly, earning a mega watt smile from Dean.   
"Great, now Sam and I have a small job to finish here, so why don't you relax, take a shower or something, and we will be back soon." Dean said, standing up and grabbing his coat. Sam followed suit, and soon you were watching the Impala kick up dust as it pulled out of the parking lot.

Sitting back down at the table, you thought about how much your life had changed since just this morning. When you thought you were about ready to die from boredom, Sam and Dean came along, trusting you, and offering you a new life. You weren't sure why they trusted you so fast, at least Dean. Sam, on the other hand, was still tense and uncomfortable around you. That was to be expected, after all they had just found you along the side of the road, with only your story, no facts to prove it true.

While you were thinking, you felt the familiar pull of being summoned, and you moaned. How could you handle being a hunter, when you could get summoned at any minute. That would certainly give you away for sure. Hoping you would be back before Sam and Dean, you gave in and felt yourself being transported to the next crossroads, or so you thought.

Your eyes closed, the first thing you noticed was the smell. You were no longer on Earth, instead you had been summoned to Hell, the smell of burning flesh, brimstone and sulphur filling your nostrils. Opening your eyes, you wondered who downstairs summoned you, and what they wanted.

"Hello Darling," Crowley said, sitting in his throne. He was wearing a dark charcoal suit and shirt, with a red tie, his choice of attire ever since you had known him.

"This is a surprise Crowley." You answer, your tone conveying your annoyance. 

He stood up, and sauntered to you, and you realized the two of you were alone in his throne room, a rare occurrence. "I just needed to check up on my favorite pet. It's been too long."

"Not long enough." You muttered, causing him to frown. 

He ran his finger along the collar of your shirt. "Is that anyway to talk to your King. Demons have been killed for less."

You stood your ground, waiting for him to get to his point. You didn't have to wait long.

"I knew you were summoned today. I was just concerned when I didn't receive a contract. What happened?"

Grateful he was concerned about that, and not about you galavanting with the Winchesters, you explained what had happened, leaving out being rescued by Sam and Dean. 

"That bastard. If you see him again let me know, I have a special place for people like him." He replied, his eyes flashing red, showing how upset he really was. 

You placed your hand on Crowley's shoulder trying to show that you were okay. "Don't worry Crowley, I don't think he'll do anything like that again. But it has shaken me up. Is there anyway I can have some time off?"

Crowley turned again to face you, an incredulous look on his face. "Time off? We're Demons, we don't get time off!"

You figured it was worth another shot, so you tried again. "I know, and I feel stupid for asking, but I just need a week or two before I get back in the game. Please?"

Crowley could never resist you, and he grudgingly nodded his head. "2 weeks. Then I expect you back and doing double the work. Got it?"

Thanking Crowley, you quickly transported back to the hotel room, noticing that dusk was starting to settle. You had been in Hell longer than you had imagined. At least you had beaten the Winchesters back. Rushing into the bathroom, you hop into the shower, trying to scrub some of the smells of Hell off of you, wincing when you remembered that you had no clean clothes with you. Snapping your fingers, you used your powers to clean the ones you had, and slid them on just as the door to the motel room creaked open.

You stepped out of the bathroom, smiling at Sam and Dean as they trudged into the room, their clothes and bodies covered in a fine layer of dirt.

"How did the job go?" You asked, settling on the edge of one of the beds.

"Piece of cake. Just a little messy." Dean answered, giving you a smile, the whites of his teeth standing out against the darkness of the dirt. "How about you? Were you bored to tears while we were gone?"

Shaking your head, you explained, "Just caught up on some more sleep. Thats it."


	6. The Bunker

The next few days were a lot busier than your previous decade combined. The trip to the bunker was fun, filled with laughter, music, and heated glances between you and Dean.

Once at the bunker, Sam and Dean made you promise that you would tell no one about its locations and secrets. All you could do was nod your head as you took in the wondrous view in front of you. At first you had been disappointed, Dean had toted all the fine points of the bunker on your trip, but when he pulled up all you had noticed was a rusted metal door in the side of a hill. You had pasted a smile on your face, pretending to be as excited as Dean was. 

But once he opened the door, you no longer had to pretend, because your breath was truly stolen from you at what layed beneath the dirt. An iron staircase led down to an enormous room with a table that had a giant map painted on. Dean grasped your hand and pulled you down the stairs, explaining about the men of letters, and how above the time they had been. He pulled you into a room full of books, two wooden tables sitting in the middle.

'"This is the library, Sam's heaven." Dean explained, and you knew it could be yours also. There were hundreds of books, some ancient and exotic, some you have read many times. 

Dean pointed to the left, and your gaze followed his to a long corridor. "That is to the kitchen, the dungeon, and other rooms that we haven't completely gone through yet. This way is to the rooms."

You followed him once again, and soon you knew where the bathroom was, and you had a room of your own, directly across from Dean's. He explained that this way he could keep you safe. Truthfully you didn't mind, you liked being close to Dean.

You went to bed early that night, ready for a busy day of training. Dean had promised he would take you down to the shooting range and teach you how to handle a gun. After some prodding Sam had said he would teach you about the monsters and how to kill them. You already knew more than you let on, but you planned on using this time to become closer to Sam. He had softened toward you, but still didn't trust you as much as Dean did. 

As you sat brushing your hair out, you felt the annoying pull of once again being summoned. "Not again." You muttered, wondering if Crowley had gone against his word. Standing up, you let yourself be transported,  crossing your arms in annoyance when you realized where you were. You had only been allowed in here once or twice, but you could still recognize the Kings Royal chambers at once. Even though he didn't need to sleep, Crowley still enjoyed having his personal space, and a bed for extracurricular activities. 

The King was dressed in a black velvet robe thrown over red silk pajamas. He was currently sitting in an old ornate Gothic chair, reading a piece of parchment. Glancing up, he nodded to the chair next to him.

"Sit." He ordered, and you quickly complied, not wanting to cause any more suspicions. The chairs were placed next to a fireplace, and with a snap of his fingers, Crowley had it lit. "Is that what crossroads demon are wearing now?"

You had forgotten that you had been dressed for bed, wearing one of Dean's shirts, and your panties. You had forgotten pajamas when you had grabbed some items, but you didn't mind. Dean's shirt was long and comfy, and smelled like him.

"I was just getting ready for bed." You retorted, pulling the shirt down modestly. Crowley caught your movement,  and frowned.

"You've been a Demon for almost a hundred years, and your still worried about modesty? I don't ever think I will understand you." Crowley stated, before returning to his parchment. At first you sat there, waiting for him to get to the point, but the longer you sat there, the more frustrated you became.

"Crowley?" You started, hoping to gain his attention,  but he kept reading his stupid paper.

"Crowley!" You exclaimed, and finally his deep chocolate eyes left the old parchment and gazed upon you with a hint of anger. "Yes?" He asked in that deep accent of his.

"Not that I don't mind spending time with you, but why did you bring me here?" You asked. 

He sat the parchment down, and turned his full attention on you. "I was just curious as to how you were doing."

You fiddled with the hem of the shirt before answering. "Much better thank you."

"Fine, than you should be able to go back to work tomorrow." He said, before moving to pick his parchment back up.

"No!" You hadn't realized you had shouted until you flashed a glance Crowley's way. His mouth was open in shock, you had never raised your voice to him before.

"Why ever not?" Crowley asked, his curiosity showing. That was never a good thing.

Thinking quickly, you cast your gaze back down, trying to act nervous and demure. "I'm just not ready yet. I still feel a little shaken."

Crowley stood up from his chair, and slowly strode towards you. You watched as his tasseled slippers took sure steps, before stopping right in front of you. You sat back as Crowley leaned down, placing a hand on each arm of the chair, effectively trapping you from moving. "I have a feeling that's not the only reason. Why don't you tell me the truth."

Not wanting to cause trouble for Sam and Dean, you tried to lie your way out of this, but Crowley was too smart. "Where did you get that shirt?" 

He leaned even closer, sniffing the collar of your shirt, and you shivered in fear.

He stood up straight, and caressed his chin in thought. "I know that scent. Only one human smells of gunpowder, and motor oil, with a mix of musk and deceit. How the hell did you get mixed up with Dean Winchester?"


	7. Torn

At that moment you didn't feel very demonic or evil. Instead, you were frozen in your chair, your body shivering uncontrollably as Crowley leaned forward once again, effectively trapping you in the chair. Trying not to flinch, you stared into the eerily calm chocolate eyes of the King of Hell.

"Did squirrel try to make another deal? I didn't think Moose had died again." Crowley said in your ear, his deep voice low and deadly. 

"Moose and squirrel?" You squeaked, not understanding where he was going with this. Crowley played with the collar of your shirt, his eyes showing that he was growing impatient with you.

"Dean and that brother of his. What the hell were you doing with them?"

Deciding that coming clean would be your best option, you told him everything. He stood up and paced in front of the fire as he listened, his face calm and controlled. That scared you more than if he had been yelling and kicking. A quiet, calm king was a deadly one, you had learned that quickly enough. 

"So let me see if I got this straight. You're taking time off from being a Demon to become a bloody hunter? And with the Winchesters no less. Next you'll tell me you've never killed anyone."

"Well." You said, knowing he wouldn't like the truth.

"Bloody hell Y/N, what type of demon are you anyways?" Crowley muttered, completely baffled by you.

"A bad one?" You mumbled, unsure where this entire conversation was going.

Crowley finally stopped pacing, his velvet robe settling around his legs. He sunk into his chair, pouring himself a nice glass of whiskey. He raises it at you in question, and you shake your head.

"Won't even drink. Where did I go wrong?" He muttered to himself. 

Sitting there, you stayed quiet as he downed the drink in one shot and poured another, his eyebrows creased in thought. He started muttering to himself, and you were only able to catch every other word, not enough to make any sense. 

Gradually he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion, and he turned to face you, a look of what you almost called glee brightening his face. This almost scared you more than anything else. You had never seen this look on his face befoe, and you knew it didn't bode well for you.

"Do you know why I've always kept you close?" He asked. You just shrugged your shoulders, not trusting your voice.

"Because no matter how hard I tried to break you, to turn you evil, I wasn't able to squash that tiny light that shown from within you. It drew me to you when you first summoned me, and to this day it still draws me in. You had such a beautiful soul, so sparkling and pure, that no matter what we did to it down here, you wouldn't lose that spark of humanity. It was refreshing, being near to someone like that in a place that is so dark and boorish."

"And?" You replied, in awe that you had something that the king was jealous of.

"And this spark is what's going to pull off my greatest plan ever." Crowley exclaimed, almost rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 

You stayed in the chair, your mouth open in shock as Crowley explained that he wanted to use you as his own personal spy.

"But, I'm not evil, I'm not going to make a good spy. Sam and Dean will figure me out in no time." You stuttered. 

"That's why this is so perfect. Your not evil, you don't even act like a demon. They won't suspect you at all! And I'm pretty sure Dean is already trying to get in your pants, he could never resist a pretty face. 

At that you blushed, showing Crowley your true emotions about the eldest Winchester. 

"I don't believe how easy this all will be. You will distract Dean with your feminine charms, while learning everything about them and those bloody Men of Letters. Than when the time is right, you will help us swoop in, and get rid of those annoying bastards once and for all."

With a flick of his hand, Crowley transported you back to your room in the bunker. Collapsing onto your comfortable bed, you held your head in your hands, wondering just what kind of mess you had gotten yourself into. One minute you were living your boring life, the next you were learning to be a hunter, and becoming a spy, all at the same time. And on top of that you were supposed to distract Dean. That wouldn't be too hard, you had already developed feelings for the green eyed hunter in the short time you had known him. But now, you were worried that your job would get in the way, and you wouldn't know what your true feelings were.

As you contemplated everything that had gone on in such a short time span, there was a soft knock on your door.

Standing up, you pulled the hem of your shirt down and patted your hair, before partially opening the door. A pair of green eyes met yours, a shy smile on a freckled face.

"Can I come in?" Dean whispered. 

"Sure." You replied, holding the door wider. "But why are we whispering? "

"Because I don't want to wake Sam." Dean said, louder this time now that he was safely in the confines of your room. You stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do or say next.

"So I, umm." Dean started, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I wanted to see how you were, if you had everything you needed."

Smiling reassuringly at Dean, you sat on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to you. Dean complied, and he sat, his pajama pant leg brushing against your bare one. The slight touch sent shocks running through your body, causing your face to flush.

"Everything's fine Dean. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me. You and Sam. You took me in when you didn't need to. You rescued me, and gave me a place to stay, and a family when i didn't have one. I don't know how i will ever repay you."

Dean took that moment to put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. Laying your head on his shoulder, you relaxed for the first time in days.

"You will have a home with us for as long as you want, I hope you understand that. And for repaying us, don't worry about it. It's the least we could do."

Dean gently pulled his arm away from you, and you shivered at the lack of touch. Befoe leaving, he leaned down and placed a sweet, chaste kiss on your cheek, not something you would have expected from the big hunter.

"Sleep well." He told you, before closing the door behind him.

Touching your cheek, you knew that falling for Dean would be the easiest part of your job, and if Crowley had his way, the hardest part too.


	8. First Hunt

You stood in the shooting range, your feet shoulder width apart, your hands currently bracing a small hand gun. Slowly pulling the trigger back, you winced at the small recoil, and watched as the bullet buried itself in the chest of the target.

"Well done." Dean applauded you, while leaning against the wall, his shoulders bulging against the grey and blue flannel he was currently wearing. His Jean covered bow legs were crossed at the ankles, lazy but confident at the same time. 

"Thanks." You said blushing. You would of thought that being a Demon would have cured you of your blushing, but it hadn't yet.

He uncrossed his legs, standing up and striding over to you, giving off an aura of masculinity that had your knees buckling. He reached forward and you watched as his hand came closer and closer to you, wondering what he was up to. Pulling back, you noticed he had taken the gun from your hand, before placing it down on the table next to you.

"You're a natural Y/N. Better shot than Sam." Dean told you, a sly grin on his face.

"Hey I heard that." Sam complained as he came down the stairs. He held a paper in his large hand, and a cup of steaming coffee in the other. 

"So." Dean retorted, still standing uncomfortably close to you. It wasn't that you minded, you didn't at all. But you weren't able to concentrate on anything other than the way his cheeks were lightly covered with freckles, or the way his green eyes shined brightly, or the way his broad shoulders filled out his shirts. You knew you needed to work on controlling your emotions, otherwise you could mess up the next hunt. That is if they ever took you on the next hunt.

Ignoring Dean's sass, Sam continued on. "I think I found us a case. Nothing too major, I think it's just a salt and burn. But at least it's something." 

Dean glanced between you and Sam, a smile slowly growing on his face. "Sounds like the prefect hunt to get Y/N's feet wet."

It took you a moment to realize what Dean had said. When understanding dawned, you jumped up and down, squealing. "Really Dean? You mean it?"

Dean was already busy cleaning up the shooting range, and Sam had left to get ready for the hunt. Looking over his shoulder, he shrugged. "Why not? You've been a fast learner, and your good with guns. A hunt like this is perfect to start with. Now head up and pack a bag, we leave soon."

Rushing up the stairs, you headed straight for your room. Opening the door, you stood for a moment, gazing in wonder at the place you called yours. It was nothing like the small house you owned, but it was yours, and Sam and Dean had given it to you. It was still fairly bare, the walls a plain brick, with no pictures to give them character. But you had talked Dean into buying you a colorful quilt at the thrift store, and it brightened the room considerably. 

Opening your closet you pulled out the bag Dean had given you, throwing in a couple changes of clothes, along with your newest book in case you got bored. 

Rushing down the hallway, you made it to the garage door the same time as Sam. He smiled warmly at you, his first true show of affection he had sent your way. He had gradually warmed to you, and it looked like he now considered you part of the family. 

Dean was already in the garage, with the trunk open. Throwing your bag inside, you stood beside him, almost bouncing with excitement. Dean took one look at you, and chuckled. "Someone's excited."

"I'm just excited to be doing something good for a change!" You explained, before freezing. You had just made a giant blunder, and you hoped it would be overlooked by Dean. However, you weren't lucky enough, and he turned to look at you, his eyebrow raised in question. 

"I just mean, I've never done anything like this in my life. I'm excited to be helping people, to do good in this world." You stuttered, trying to explain yourself without giving more away.

"Someone's still bright eyed about the world aren't they?" Sam teased as he passed by, sliding into the passenger seat of the Impala.

"Well I hope you feel this way after your first hunt. They aren't as glorious as you would believe. Usually they are messy, and tiring." Dean stated, before shutting the door and moving to climb in the drivers seat. Not wanting to be left behind, you hurriedly slid into the back seat.

Dean pulled the car out of the garage, and soon it was rolling along the highway, the windows down, and the radio rocking. You leaned back against the seat, a smile on your face, enjoying the experience of a road trip with the Winchesters. Opening one eye, you caught Dean staring at you, an almost hungry look in his eyes. Realizing he was caught, he smirked befoe turning his eyes back to the road. You weren't so easily distracted, your entire body was flushed from that one look alone.

Three hours later, Dean was pulling into the parking lot of a motel, and you climbed out, stretching your legs. Sam went to check in, while Dean started pulling bags from the trunk. Taking yours, you noticed Sam had already returned. You followed behind, and stood back as Sam opened the door. The room was nice, nothing fancy but it was clean. Two beds were placed against a wooden paneled wall, and a table was placed near the window. 

"Guess someone will be sharing." Dean muttered, throwing his bag on the bed closest to the door. Sam placed his bag on the other one, and you stood there, unsure what to do. Dean noticed your internal struggle and decided for you. He pulled the bag from your shoulder, and threw it onto the bed that also held his bag. With wide eyes you looked up into Dean's, noticing that he was glancing down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

Sam smiled briefly at the two of you, before pulling out his laptop. "I think I know who our ghost is, I just need to figure out where he's buried."

Dean grabbed the keys from the table, "I'm gonna grab us some grub."

Soon it was just you and Sam, and you turned on the tv, unsure what to do. Sam ignored you at first, intent on his research. It stayed quiet for a couple of minutes, until Sam turned his gaze on you. "I've noticed how you act around Dean. You like him don't you?"

Fiddling with the edge of the comforter, you nodded, your eyes cast down.

"I'm fine with that. Dean needs something to make him happy, maybe a relationship would be good for him. But I do want to warn you, if you hurt him, I will hunt you down. Do you understand me?"

You glanced up, your e/c eyes meeting his hazel ones, staring at you with a serious expression in them. "I understand. But you might not have to worry. I'm not even sure he likes me that way." You muttered. 

Before Sam could reply, Dean came barreling through the door, his arms full of take out food. Grateful for the interruption, you helped Dean unload the food.

After your quick break for food, Sam had discover the location of the ghosts grave, and the three of you had piled back into the Impala. It was a quick ride, maybe ten minutes to the cemetery, and as you continously moved closer, you became more nervous. Of course you were a demon, you should be able to handle any situations easily, but you wanted to prove to Sam and Dean that you were capable, that you could do this.

Dean seemed to notice how nervous you had become, because as soon as the two of you were out of the Impala, Dean stood close to you, a comforting arm on your shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll be fine, I'll be with you the entire time."

You smiled at him, and he handed you the flashlight. "Tonight we'll start easy, you can man the flashlight." 

Not sure if you should be touched or insulted, you held the flashlight and flashed it onto each tombstone, looking for the name of Gregory Adams. Supposedly he had died by the hands of a failing student, and now he was haunting the local high school. 

After about ten minutes of looking, you stumbled upon a small marbled headstone, one bearing the exact name you were looking for.

"Over here guys, I found it!" You yelled, excited that you had done something right. Sam and Dean jogged over, Dean holding the shovel. Soon jackets were off, and Dean was standing waist deep in a freshly dug hole. Sam stood near you, a shotgun in his hands. 

"Keep your eye out, ghosts can always seem to feel when their grave is getting messed with, and they are never happy." Sam warned you, and you made sure to glance around. 

Finally Dean had unearthed the body, and was out of the hole, wiping the sweat from his face. Sam was pouring salt over the body when you heard a sound. Looking around, you noticed a figure behind Dean, and you moved to scream, but it was too late, the ghost threw Dean, his head slamming into a tombstone. 

Frantically looking, you spotted Sam's shotgun laying on the ground. As the ghost moved towards you, your fingers touched the tip of the gun. Laying on your back, you waited until the ghost was above you, before pulling the trigger. You watched as the ghost vanished. 

"Sam, hurry up!" You yelled, knowing you didn't have much time until the ghost returned. 

Standing up, you made your way to Dean, breathing a sigh of relief that he was starting to move around. Helping him up, the two of you went and stood next to Sam, watching in silence as Sam tossed a lighter onto the grave, and it went up in flames.


	9. Celebration

The distinct sound of glasses tapping together sounded in your ears as you saw Dean struggling to carry three ice cold mugs of beer over to you. 

The three of you had decided to celebrate your first successful hunt Dean's way, and that included alcohol and food at the nearest dive bar. This one happened to be an old world pub, filled with plenty of customers and character. The long wooden bar was mahogany, deep and shiny, with nicks and scars showing that it had seen it's fair share of stories. Bar stool were brass with faded red velvet seats, and along the wall were deep booths, leather seats scuffed and faded from years of service.

Dean plopped all three mugs on the table, the foam slipping over the edge and sliding to the table. He slid in next to you, his arm outstretched behind you on top of the bench. Sam was sitting across from you, his eyes carefully observing you and his brother.

"The bar tender said this was their special brew, thought we'd try it. And our food is on the way." Dean explained, before taking a sip of the frothy liquid. You couldn't help but laugh at the foam mustache that had formed on Dean's upper lip. 

"What?" He asked, looking between you and Sam. Taking your finger, you brushed the foam off, enjoy the way his lip felt against your skin. His eyes darkened as you gently swiped your finger across, and he stayed still. 

Sam cleared his throat, and slid out of the booth. "Why don't I get us the next round." He said, quickly leaving. 

With all the foam gone, you started to pull your hand away, and Dean watched it, before catching it in his grasp. The two of you stayed that way, caught in each others eyes, each afraid to make the next move. 

You were the first to look away, unable to handle the depth of passion in Dean's green eyes. Dean let go of your hand just as Sam came back with the food and another round.

"Excuse me." You said, needing a moment to catch your breath. Dean stood up, letting you slide out of the booth, watching as you pushed through the crowd, creating a path towards the bathroom. Entering the hallway, you sighed at the long line of women waiting, and you made the decision to get some fresh air outside instead.

Pushing out the side door, you took a deep breath, knowing you were way in over your head. In your human life you had never had these type of feelings for anyone, not even Stephen, and you were confused and unsure. You knew nothing could come from them, Crowley and your deceit would make sure of that. Deciding to take a step back from your infatuation with Dean, you moved to go back inside, but a figure in front of you stopped you.

"At first I thought I had to be mistaken, Crowley's pet would never be seen running around with the Winchesters. But then I saw you outside, and knew it was true." The woman said, stepping out of the shadows and standing in front of you. She was young and beautiful, at least her meat suit was. Inside was one of the meanest Demons you had ever met. She was old, older than Crowley, with a never ending need for death and torture. You had always tried to stay away from her, she always made you nervous.

"Ebony." You muttered, standing your ground, showing her you weren't afraid, even though you unsure. 

"Y/N." She answered. "How do you like my new meatsuit? This one I picked out extra special,  an up and coming swimsuit model. I love how all these idiot human men drool over her. They make such easy prey."

Wanting to end this conversation before the Winchesters came looking for you, you crossed your arms and asked. "What the hell do you want?"

"What do I always want? Control and power. Does Crowley know about you and the Winchesters? "

Trying to step around her,you were stopped by a slim and powerful arm. "You know what, it doesn't matter. Because Crowley won't be in power much longer."

Forcefully removing her hand from your arm, you stood with your legs spread, ready to fight if needed. "What do you mean?"

Brushing her long golden hair off of one shoulder, she studied her nails, trying but not succeeding in her attempt to look assured. You could tell she was just trying to get a rise out of you.

"You'll see. And when it happens, your going to become my slave. I can't wait to put a collar on you, and make you my bitch." She snarled. 

"Y/N? Is everything okay?" You heard Dean's voice coming from beside the door.

"This isn't over." Ebony whispered, before striding off into the darkness. Shaking off the unease from Ebony's visit, you stood next to Dean, smiling up at him. "Yeah, just a drunk jealous girl." You lied, hating the amount of lies that were slowly piling up between you and Dean.

"Are you sure? She seemed like she knew you." Dean asked, still not convinced, his stance that of a hunter on high alert. 

"She was definitely friendly but not nice, just jealous that I was in the company of two handsome men." You replied.

"Well, she has nothing to be jealous over, yet." Dean said, the yet muttered under his breath but you were still able to hear it. "Still doesn't seem right, she really seemed to think she knew you."

"Weird huh?" You said, opening the door, trying to leave the encounter and this awkward conversation behind, but Dean didn't want to drop it. As soon as the two of you joined Sam back at the booth, Dean had you recount the story to Sam. They both stayed silent as you came up with a story, the same one about jealousy and drunkness.

Sam seemed to buy it a little more than Dean had, but then Sam hadn't seen the way she had stopped you, or the way she had spoken. But Sam's acceptance of your tale assured Dean, and soon they were back to celebrating, while you contemplated the newest twist in your ever expanding tale of deceit.


	10. Struggle

It wasn't too much longer at the bar before the three of you decided that it was time to call it a night. You were exhausted from the hunt and the altercation with Ebony, and Sam and Dean could both see that.

You almost sleep walked to the Impala, sliding onto the slick leather seat and leaning your head against the window, closing your eyes. Sam took his usual place in the passenger seat, but you were asleep before Dean could even start the Impala.

You felt yourself floating, and you grudgingly woke up, opening your eyes enough to notice you were snuggled up against a sturdy, flannel clad chest. You must have slept all the way to the hotel, because Dean was gently carrying you through the door that Sam was graciously holding open.

Closing your eyes again, you feigned sleep, wanting to hear if they brought up the earlier incident. You weren't disappointed, because as soon as he stepped away from the bed, Dean started whispering to Sam, in an attempt to not wake you.

"I know she brushed it off, but I swear that Y/N knew that woman from somewhere. They were too familiar with each other, and it sounded like they were fighting about something." 

You heard rustling, and you knew the boys were getting ready for bed. "I wasn't there Dean, so I have no idea what really went on. But what do we really know about Y/N? We found her on the side of the road, and she hasn't really been forthcoming with any of her past." Sam stated, and you knew he still didn't trust you completely. 

The bed you were on gently sloped down, and you guessed Dean had sat on the edge. "I know Sam, but I trust her. I can't tell you why, but I have this feeling that no matter what she's hiding from us, she's not doing it to hurt us."

Sam sighed next to you, before you heard a bed creak and groan, a sign that he had just climbed into bed. "Don't be mad, but are you sure you're thinking with your upstairs brain, and not the one below your belt?"

"Maybe both." Dean countered.  "I don't know Sam, she hasn't given us any excuse not to trust her. I do know I have feelings for her, feelings that I thought I would never have again after Lisa."

"All I'm saying is don't be blind around her. Keep your eyes open, just to make sure we aren't getting double crossed. Give it another week or two, then I will give up and say she's okay." Sam answered. 

Dean didn't reply, instead you felt gentle hands pulling your shoes off, before moving the covers. Pretending to stir awake at the touch, you moaned, before stretching your arms over your head.

"Sorry to wake you." Dean whispered, before moving off the bed to stand next to you. 

"It's okay." you said, lifting your hips up and letting Dean pull your jeans down, leaving you in just your shirt and f/c panties. His eyes traveled hungrily down your exposed legs, creating goose bumps along your skin, before he covered you with the blanket. Shutting the light off, Dean slid in next to you.

"Dean?" You mumbled, quiet enough to not wake Sam who had already fallen asleep.

"Yeah?" he answered, settling on his side so he could see you. His face was even with yours, and your e/c eyes were level with his green orbs. Being so close to him was unsettling, but intimate, and you wished he would close the distance and press his lips against yours.

"Thanks for coming to check on me. That girl was getting a little hard to handle." You told him, noticing his eyes had settled on your lips as you spoke. 

He turned to lay on his back, and you weren't sure if the close proximity had affected him also.. "No problem. I will always be there for you, I promise."

___________________________

The next morning, the three of you headed back to the bunker, the road trip unusually silent as the three of you seemed to be lost in thought.

As soon as the Impala pulled into the garage, you rushed out of it, throwing the excuse that you needed a shower over your shoulder. In truth you needed to get away, to sort out all of the new and troubling emotions that were running through your system.

Reaching the bathroom, you shut the door and locked it, leaning against it as you sighed. Being by yourself was a blessing, and you hadn't realized how much you had missed it when you had moved in with the Winchesters. Stripping out of your clothes, you climbed into the shower, moaning at the feel of the hot water sliding down your body, washing away your aches and pains. 

Feeling more like yourself, you shut the water off, reaching out for the towel, when you noticed it wasn't where it should have been. Stepping out of the shower, you brushed your dripping wet water out of your hair, almost screaming at the sight in front of you. Moving your hands around, you tried to cover your breasts and private area, but you weren't doing much good.

"It's not like I haven't seen it before." Crowley stated, standing there in his freshly pressed black suit, holding your towel in front of him. Reaching out, you snagged it from his grasp, rushing to wrap it around yourself.

Feeling more covered, you stood with your hands on your hips. "Crowley what the hell are you doing here? Sam or Dean could catch you." You whispered angrily. 

Crowley raised his eyebrow. "So, you have gotten closer to one of the Winchesters. Good girl. I bet it's Dean, he is handsome in that annoyingly rugged way."

"It's none of your business." You retorted, which was the wrong move. Crowley moved quick, more quickly than humanly possible, and had his hand wrapped around your neck befoe you could snap your fingers.

"Everything you do is part of my business. It will do you good to remember that." He threatened, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Everything alright in there Y/N?" Dean asked, concern evident in his voice. 

Crowley released your throat enough that you could squeeze out the words. "Yeah, just cut myself shaving. Be out soon."

"Hurry up, it's almost chow time." Dean told you through the door before you could hear his footsteps heading down the hallway. 

As soon as Dean was far enough away, Crowley slammed you against the wall. "I want to know everything. What are those two knuckleheads planning?"

You shook your head, "Nothing, they're planning nothing. It's not them you have to worry about."

Crowley's face was close enough that you could see the tiny gold specks in his chocolate eyes. "What the hell do you mean?"

Quick you explained your visit with Ebony, and Crowley released you to pace the small confines of the bathroom. 

"I always knew that bitch was after more, I just didn't expect her to be smart enough to go after the throne."

"Do you still want me to spy on the Winchesters?" You asked, hoping he would say yes. You weren't ready to leave Dean behind yet.

Crowley contemplated a moment before answering. "Yes, I still can't trust those two buffoons, and it's not like you will be missed by the rest of the Demons. Keep your eyes open, and call me if you learn anything." Crowley said befoe smoking out of the room. You slid down the wall, the visit with Crowley having zapped you of your strength.


	11. Angel

The next couple of days were heavenly. With no hunt to be found, the three of you lounged about the bunker, cleaning up long forgotten messes, and spending the nights drinking, playing cards and enjoying each others companies. You loved these moments, but a nagging thought at the back of your mind kept reminding you that these days were too good to last.

Ebony's visit was on the back burner of your mind, and Crowley hadn't come visiting again. Tonight, Sam was in his room watching Netflix, leaving you and Dean alone to spend some time together. The two of you were on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of you, and a brand new movie in the DVD player. Dean's arm was around you, and you were snuggled into his chest, perfectly content in the moment.

"Y/N," Dean said, his chest rumbling with his deep voice. Tilting your head, your eyes stared into Dean's, his shining with an emotion you were too nervous to name, lest it broke the spell and you were wrong.

"Hmm." You answer.

He started running his fingers through your hair, lightly, and you almost purred it felt so good. "I know we haven't known each other that long, but I need to tell you this. As a hunter, you never know when your last moment will be, and I want you to know before that moment comes."

Your heart racing, you sat up, and Dean's fingers got caught in your hair. Cussing, he gently untangled them, before placing his hands on your shoulders, trying to keep you still.

"Damn it woman, would you hold still." He almost yelled. "I'm trying to tell you I'm in love with you!"

Those three words were enough to do what his hands couldn't, you froze, held in place by the somewhat unsure look on his face. The fearless hunter was afraid, and all it took was emotions to knock him down. You understood, everyone he had loved, even Sam, had been ripped from his arms at one point, and he had shut his heart off to keep the hurt away. It killed you that you were the one to open his heart, and at any moment your lies could shatter it.

Taking your silence as a negative, Dean stood up, running his hand through his short hair, trying to leave the tv room. Before he could take another step, you used your demonic speed to rush over to him, standing in front of him.

"Hey, how did you..." He started to question, but you placed a finger on his plump lower lip, silencing him.

"Dean I.." You said, having trouble finding the right words to say.

He shook his head, tilting it down so you couldn't see the heartbreak in his eyes. "It's alright Y/N, it won't change anything. You can still hunt with us if you want."

"Dean shut up." You yelled at him. "I'm trying to tell you I love you too! It's just hard to get the words out."

It took a moment for your words to sink in, and you watched his face as it did. At first there was still the heartbreak, then shock, his eyes widening. Finally, his lips started a slow curl before breaking out in a chesshire cat grin, his eyes lighting up. "Really? You're not just saying that in pity are you?"

You shook your head, your grin matching his. "No I think I've loved you ever since you pulled the car over and climbed out. It was fate."

You watched in surprise as he shuttered. "Don't ever mention fate to me, she's one vindictive bitch." He said before slinging his arm over your shoulder and guiding you back to the couch where your movie still sat on menu mode.

As soon as Dean picked up the remote to finally start the movie, Sam and another figure stepped into the room. Dean set the remote down, and strode over, smiling at the man. He was tall, though not nearly as tall as either Sam and Dean. He had messy dark brunette hair, almost black in color, and very striking blue eyes. He was wearing a long, tan trench coat over a suit, and you wondered who exactly he was.

Dean seemed pleased to see this man, and you listened in to their conversation. Dean was exclaiming that it had been too long, and not to keep them out of the loop so long. Then he seemed to remember you, and turned and gestured to you, wanting you to come meet his friend. 

Cautiously, you made your way over, a wave of unease spreading over you. For some reason you felt that this man would cause great trouble for you, but you weren't sure how. 

"Hey Y/N, this is Cas. He's the Angel who raised me from hell, and he's been helping us ever since. Cas, this is Y/N, the woman of my dreams." Dean said, his gleeful smile still spread across his face.

The Angel was looking at you, his head tilted, and his eyebrows creased as if in great thought. All of a sudden a long, gleaming silver knife slid out of his coat sleeve and within seconds he was holding it against your throat.

"Cas!" Both Sam and Dean yelled, but Cas ignored them and pushed you until your back slammed into the wall, the tip of the knife pressing into your neck.

"Who are you, and how did you trick these men?" Cas demanded, and you looked at Dean for help.

"Cas buddy, it's Y/N. I told you about her. Hell, I even just proclaimed my love to her. Let her go, you're scaring her." Dean tried to reason.

Cas didn't move the knife an inch, but he did glance at Dean. "Dean I hate to say this, but the woman you fell in love with is probably dead. Because in front of me right now is a Demon."


	12. Good bye

Cas had his arm roughly pressed against your upper chest, making sure you weren't able to go anywhere, his blue eyes scanning you, making sure he was correct. It was scary, knowing this man could kill you at any second, with a press of his fingers or the scary knife pressed against your throat. 

Your eyes shifted Dean's way, watching as his mouth opened and shut, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. Sam was standing behind Dean, ready at a moments notice to offer his older brother support. Even though you knew you were a failure at being a Demon, there was no way these men could let you live. It was their job, their duty to rid the world of creatures like you, svdn I'd you weren't technically evil. 

"What do you mean she's a Demon? She can't be." Dean argued, not liking what he had heard the first time, hoping Cas was joking. 

"Didn't you test her?" Cas asked, pressing the blade closer, pricking your skin, causing you to squirm. 

"Of course we..." Dean answered, before looking to Sam for help. Both men thought for a moment before shrugging their shoulders.  "I thought we had." Dean finally answered weakly. 

You stayed silent, your attention focused on the deadly looking blade pressed against your neck, and not on the man you loved, who would probably be signing your death warrant momentarily.

Dean was staring at you, his expression breaking your heart. In his eyes was a glimmer of hope that this was all a big misunderstanding, that Cas would laugh and put his knife away. But the set of his shoulders, and the line of his jaw proved that he was already steeling himself to heartbreak, knowing nothing good ever lasted for him.

"Wait, maybe she was possessed after we met her." Sam suggested hopefully, not liking the look of sadness in his brothers eyes.

"Dean I..." You start to say, wanting to explain yourself, hoping he wouldn't hate you after you did. Before you could get the rest of the words out, Cas pushed the knife farther, and you felt a thin line of blood drip down your neck.

"Who are you? What have you done with Y/N?" Cas asked, but before you could answer, you felt the familiar feelings start to flow through you, and you knew what was coming. Turning to Dean, you tried once again. "Dean I never meant to hurt you, I just wanted.."

Before you could finish, you were transported back to hell, to Crowley's personal office,  landing in the leather arm chair placed acrossed from his dark ebony desk.

Reaching up with a shaky hand, you touched your throat, pulling away to see it was still slightly bleeding. Crowley was seated behind his desk, his head buried in a book, his attention far away from you. You were relieved, it gave you a moment to settle yourself. After all, you had just confessed your love, been assaulted, and your true identity found out, all in less than an hour. It was an exhausting, and emotionally zapping day, even for a Demon that wasn't supposed to have emotions. 

Crowley's summoning couldn't have come at a better time, any later and you might have been dead. But now your relationship with Dean was definitely over, along with your only chance to do good, to be good. 

You looked back towards Crowley, noticing he was still engrossed in his book. Last time you had seen Crowley, he had said he was planning on leaving you alone for a while, so you wondered what had changed his mind. 

"Crowley, what did you need?" You asked.

"I've decided to pull you from your watching the Winchesters. Nothings come of it so far, and I've decided I need you for more important things." He told you, never looking up, his eyes still glued to the large book in front of him.  

Sitting there, you realized that Crowley had unknowingly given you the best thing.  If he had ordered you back to them, you would be dead in seconds, either by that Angels blade, or by Dean himself. 

You really didn't want to leave the Winchesters and their bunker. You had grown quite fond of Sam, the overgrown hunter had slowly turned into your best friend, and the two of you had spent many hours talking about books in the library, sharing your love of vintage stories. 

And Dean.  Just thinking about him brought tears to your eyes. Dean had given you something you had never thought possible as a Demon, a chance at love. He meant so much to you, and now you had to walk away, and never see him again. 

"Earth to Y/N." You heard Crowley say, and you left your depressing thoughts behind, lest Crowley found out and used them against you. 

"Sorry." You apologized. Crowley put his heavy book down, and stared at you, causing you to squirm in your seat. 

"Is there trouble in paradise?" Crowley asked, standing up, moving towards his bookshelf to replace the book. 

As he turned back,  you shook your head no, not wanting to explain what happened.

"I'm the King of Hell, darling I can tell when you're lying." He said, sitting next to you, his calm demeanor confusing you. You relented, telling him that your cover had been blown, but leaving out the fact that you were in love with Dean, and that he at point returned those feelings.

Crowley rubbed his chin in thought, before standing up and smoothing down his black dress shirt. "So now you're probably on the Winchesters list. What do you think we should do?"


	13. Back to the Beginning

Once again you found yourself sitting in your small living room, this time the book laid forgotten on your lap. You were back in your small house, and had been for the past two weeks. Crowley had decided the best course of action was for you to get as far away from the Bunker as possible, and since they didn't know about your house, he had sent you back there.

Now you were back to the same old lifestyle you had tried so hard to get away from. Your were back in your house, which seemed too small and cramped after all the room in the bunker. Instead of going on road trips and hunting down monsters, you were back to being the monster. Crowley had once again put you in charge of crossroads deals, so you spent your time waiting for the call, dreading it each time. It had happened a couple of times so far, and each time you had imagined it had been the Winchesters finding out about you, but instead it had been unhappy humans, wanting more but not wanting to work for it.

The rest of the time you spent moping about your house, your hair in a messy bun, dressed in your favorite pj's that had seen much better days, eating ice cream and crying. At night you laid in bed, going over all your time with Dean, how happy you had been, how alive you had felt for the first time in years. It had been the best part of your long, boring, hellish life and you missed it desperately. 

At times you thought about going back, trying to reason with Sam and Dean, to show them that Demons weren't all bad, at least you weren't. But you knew the minute you showed your face, they would attempt to kill you.

Tossing the unread book onto the end table next to you, you covered your face with your hands, wondering how you were going to go on with the rest of your life, knowing you had something special slip out of your fingers.

Dissapointed in yourself for being such a wreck, you gathered up your energy, and decided you would take a shower, then get out of the house. Maybe a change of scenery would be beneficial, or at least it wouldn't hurt to try.

Your room was located on the second floor, a large loft type room with a large window at the front. Your bathroom was located towards the back of the room, an airy, large bathroom painted a light gray and yellow. Your shower was a gray marble, and had a special shower head with jets. It had been your one main splurge, and you loved standing under the strong stream of water, letting it pound the worries and strain from your shoulders.

You stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, the steam and pressure doing wonders for your battered heart. Wrapping your body in an oversized soft towel, you stayed in the bathroom pampering yourself, lathering lotion all over your body, brushing your hair, something you hadn't had the energy or desire to do since you left the bunker.

It felt good to take care of yourself, even if your body didn't age, you wanted to take good care of it, to look your best. It was a reminder of your reform school days, things that had been drilled into your head. As you put the lotion away and went to move out of the bathroom, you felt the familiar tingle travel all up your spine, letting you know you were being summoned. 

"Damn it!" You cussed, rushing into your room to grab any clothes you could find before you were transported to the middle of the road. Reaching for a pair of underwear, you slipped them on under the towel, then grabbed a shirt from the dresser next to you. Before you could do anything more, you felt yourself shift, and soon you were no longer in your bedroom.

"Damn it." You cussed again, wishing you had the power to dress yourself with a snap of your fingers, but it hadn't been one of the powers you had been gifted with.

Making sure the towel covered all your important bits, you turned in a circle, looking for whoever had summoned you. Hopefully it was some stupid teenager who thought he couldn't live without being loved by a certain girl. It was always fast and easy, and you would be back in your house before you could snap your fingers.

But as you turned to face your summoner, you noticed paint by your feet. Scanning out farther, your heart dropped as you realized you had been summoned into a trap. You were standing smack dab in the middle of a devils trap, wearing only underwear and a towel, your tshirt being left behind during the transport. 

Your gaze shifted up, past the pitted pavement to the two sets of feet standing in front of you. Both were wearing scuffed, heavy workboots, one pair dark brown, the other tan. Your eye level moved up, following two pairs of worn blue jeans, one long and lean, the other bow legged. Your heart beating faster, you quickly skimmed past the flannel chests, stopping on the familiar faces.


	14. Uh Oh

"Hey guys." You said sheepishly, aware of the fact that you were dressed only in a towel, in a devils trap, facing the two guys you had considered your closest friends at one time. Following your awkward sentence, you gave a little hand wave , mentally cursing yourself for being such a dork. 

You looked at their faces, waiting for one of them to speak, but neither one had yet. Instead, they both stood there, their mouths hanging open in shock. Sam looked much the same, his long hair gently curling at the collar, his long, lanky body tense and alert. 

Dean on the other hand looked like the two weeks hadn't been kind to him. He had dark circles under his eyes, and stubble gracing his chin. Maybe being apart affected him as much as it had you. 

The silence finally became too much. "Are we going to stand here all day, or are you boys going to tell me why you summoned me?"

Sam seemed to get himself together faster than Dean, because he was the one to speak first, but his voice had a hint of uncertainty to it. "When we decided to do this crossroads trap, we weren't expecting to see you."

Raising an eyebrow, you made sure the towel was tight before continuing. "Well why did you do the crossroads spell in the first place?"

Dean answered you, and you could have wept at how much you had missed that strong, deep voice. A voice that resonated control and safety, and sent shivers down your spine. "We wanted information about you. We weren't sure if you had used a real name or not, so we figured this was the easiest way to find out more. Imagine our surprise when you showed up."

Not sure if them looking for you was a good thing or not, you stayed in the middle of the devils trap, carefully watching them for signs of movement. But what you had missed in your first glance but saw in your second caused your heart to drop. Dean was holding a knife, but not just any knife, the one that killed Demons. 

Of course, he might of had it as a precaution, considering they hadn't known they would get you right away. But seeing the man of your dreams wielding a knife that could kill you, was never a good thing.

Dean caught you staring at the knife and he slowly hid it in the back of his jeans, before raising in his arms in a gesture of trust.

"Well, you got me instead of the information, so how can I help you? And does either one of you have an extra tshirt I can borrow? This whole towel thing is a little embarrassing." You asked, muttering the last words, but they still heard you any ways. Dean's eyes darkened, as he seemed to realize for the first time how little clothing you had. He turned his back and strode to the Impala, opening the trunk and ruffling through it.

Sam stayed near you, a serious, angry expression on his face. "How could you? I know you're a Demon, but how could you toy with Dean's emotions like that? It's taking all I can do to not come in that circle and kill you myself." He threatened, his words deep and soft.

Taking a step back away from Sam, you knew he meant exactly what he said, and given the opportunity he would gladly stab that knife in your ribs. By this time Dean had returned, a shirt in one hand, shoving something else in his pocket, but you couldn't make out what it was. Once again taking his position next to Sam, he tossed it in the trap, and you reached out, grasping it to cover your front as your towel came apart and slid to the ground.

Both Sam and Dean stared at you, not even turning their eyes upward to give you privacy. Trying to stay covered, you slipped the shirt overhead, it's length going clear down to your knees. 

As soon as you were dressed you realized that Dean had been waiting for you to drop your guard. He had already moved into the devils trap and was standing next to you as soon as your head had slipped out of the shirt. 

"Dean..." You started to say, with Dean standing so close your thoughts were muddled. Before you could say anything more, Dean whipped a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket and slapped them on your wrists.

With a heavy heart you looked down at your imprisoned hands, noticing that these were the men of letter's handcuffs, for they were warded with devils traps and enchantments, meaning you were now at the mercy of the Winchesters.

Glancing up at Dean with tears in your eyes, you saw him soften towards you before quickly turning his face into a mask of indifference.

Roughly grabbing your upper arm, he pulled you to the edge of the devils trap, and waited for Sam to break the line. Sam glanced at Dean, before taking your other arm, and pulling you to the Impala, his grasp rough and unyelding. Dean released his grasp and stepped away, moving towards the driver side of the Impala. 

Sam opened the back door, and carelessly shoved you in, and you hit your head on the door frame.   
Your cry of pain was ignored as he made sure you were fully inside before he slammed the door shut and climbed in the passenger seat. 

Dean turned the Impala on, and what was once the comforting roar of the engine now caused tremors of fear to run through your body, as you were unsure what their next move was. 

 

"Where are you taking me?" You asked, your shaky voice betraying your fear. 

"Back to the bunker. The rest is none of your business yet." Dean answered before turning the radio loud, effectively stopping the chance for any more conversation. Instead, you stared out the window, knowing this might be the last time you could feel the sun on your skin.


	15. The Dungeon

The ride to the bunker was long and arduous. With the music turned up loud, and the engine roaring, Dean made sure there was no chance for any sort of chit chat. So you spent the two hours staring out the window, watching the scenery blur by, your thoughts maudlin. 

Every once in awhile you could have sworn you saw Dean's gaze on you through the rear view mirror, but he would swiftly return it to the road, missing the stray tear that would fall down your cheek.

As a Demon, you knew it was ridiculous to be crying. You were supposed to be an evil, unfeeling bitch, but you had quickly learned that that wasn't you. Maybe if you had tried harder, and listened to Crowley, you wouldn't be in this predicament, your heart ready to jump out of your chest and stab you, in response to all the pain you had caused it. Anything would have been easier than knowing the person you loved more than anything was ready, and willing, to drive a knife straight through your heart.

At one point during the drive, Dean had pulled over at an old rundown gas station, letting Sam out to use the restroom. As soon as Sam was out of ear shot you tried to plead your story. "Listen Dean, I promise I had no ulterior motives, I just..."

Before you could fully explain your predicament, Dean had the blade pressed against your throat, a snarl on his lips. "How dare you. You came into our lives, our home, and lied to us. You're a Demon, of course you had ulterior motives. Now if you say one more word, I swear I will slide this blade between your ribs, I don't care what Sam said."

You leaned back in the seat, as far away from the knife as possible, fear causing you to shiver uncontrollably. Dean noticed, a frown marring his features, as he pulled the blade back, and turned to face the steering wheel once again. By this time Sam had returned, and curiously looked between the two of you, knowing something had happened. The tension between the two of you was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife.

As soon as Sam's butt hit the seat, Dean was squealing tires, the radio once again cranked up loud, offering no room for argument.  You wouldn't have anyways, you were still floored by Dean's earlier admission. When you had first noticed Sam and Dean outside of the devils trap, you had immediately thought it had been Dean who wanted the information from you. But Dean's confession proved otherwise, that he was the one who wanted you dead, while Sam wanted the information. This did not bode well for you, because Sam had threatened to kill you if you hurt his brother, which you had. Either way you were screwed, it just hurt a little more coming from Dean.

 

Dean took a corner a little too fast, and with your hands cuffed in front of you, you couldn't stop your head from slamming against the window. You cried out in pain, ignoring the bewildered look Sam shot over his shoulder, before he glanced at his brother in surprise. Dean shrugged, never taking his eyes from the road.

Soon, Dean was pulling the Impala into the bunkers underground garage, and you held your breath, knowing you probably wouldn't like what came next. You were right, Dean came around the car, opening the door, and grabbed the first thing he could touch, which happened to be your hair. Pulling hard, you whimpered, following as fast as you could to take away the horrible pressure from your head.

As soon as you were out of the car, he slammed the door shut and switched his grasp to your upper arm, his grip leaving no room to escape, not like you would have been able to anyways. You weren't able to transport, and you knew they would easily catch you if you tried to run.

Dean forced you down the hallway, one filled with many happy memories. You passed your old bedroom, and you couldn't help but smile, just a little, at the reminder of the time Dean had brought you your own colorful quilt, a sheepish look on his face, unsure if he should have done it or not. It had been so sweet, and you remember throwing your arms around him, shocking the both of you.

Trying to stay on your feet, you followed behind, through the library where you had spent many times talking books with Sam, or researching a new case. It had been your favorite room of the entire bunker.

Down a darkened hallway he drug you, one that you were less familiar with. This hallway had always seemed dark and foreboding, and when you had lived here you had tried your best to steer clear from it.

Dean opened one of the many doors lining the hallway, flicking the light switch to illuminate a small, storage area. Confused, you looked to Dean, but he was already moving, his face like stone as he used his free hand to pull aside one of the storage shelves, revealing another room behind. It wasn't just any room, but a dungeon meant to hold a Demon, or any other sort of monster.

Dean, annoyed that you had stopped to gawk, yanked on your arm, and you tripped, finding yourself falling to the floor. Before you could hit the cold, hard stone floor, Dean's hand on your arm pulled you up, against his sturdy chest. 

Ignoring the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you watched as Dean seemed repulsed by your touch, which was enough to cause tears to gather in your eyes.

"Quit your acting." Dean growled, before not so gently pushing you down in a wooden chair that was placed in the middle of the room. Taking a key out of his pocket, Dean undid your handcuffs, and you quickly rubbed the free skin, raw from the cuffs. Before you could do any more, Dean once again had you cuffed, but this time to the chair.

He took a step back, and as you watched him, you realized there were lines running through the entire room. Following them with your gaze, you quickly came to realize you were in a large devils trap, with devils trap handcuffs on your hands. You were completely at the mercy of Sam and Dean, and from Dean's angry, hateful expression sent your way, you knew you would have no help.


	16. Darkness

Tears of frustration slipped down your cheek as you pulled on the silver cuffs, trying to use your full Demon strength to at least get yourself out of the handcuffs. The cuffs had devils traps on them, and you quickly found your strength waning, either from frustration or the enchantment on them, you weren't sure.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw movement, and threw your head up just in time to see Dean start to stride out of the dungeon, planning on locking you up inside the windowless cell.

"Dean wait! Please! I can explain, just come back. Don't leave me in here." You were sobbing, begging, your pride long forgotten, left behind at that nameless crossroads. 

Dean stopped, and for a minute hope shined in your heart, but it was quickly shattered at his words. "There is nothing you can say that will ever have me forgive you. So just drop the act already."

As soon as those venomous words left his lips, he slammed the door shut, and you were blanketed in darkness, your heart beating so fast you thought it might rip out of it's chest. You hated the dark, it terrified you. When you were first being trained as a Demon, Crowley would lock you for days in deep, dark pits, filled with anything your imagination could dredge up, thinking it would squash your fear. All it had done was magnify it ten fold, creating another reason why you sucked at being a Demon, because no Demon should be afraid of anything, unless it was the Winchesters. 

Telling yourself to calm down, you attempted to take deep breaths, but the thought that you might die down here kept flying through your brain, and instead of calming down you felt yourself start to hyperventilate. It was terrifying, and soon you were pulling against your cuffs as hard as you could, bouncing your chair up and down, it croaking ominously as it tried to support your rapid movement. 

You were so worked up, you didn't notice the sliver of light that created a long, slim line across the floor, slowly growing bigger as the dungeon door creaked open, it's heavy frame complaining about being moved once again.

You missed the sound of uncertain footsteps as they came closer,  or the voice telling you to stop, to calm down, that they weren't planning on killing you, yet.

You were still sobbing uncontrollably, big fat tears rolling down your face, soaking your borrowed shirt, your hands and ankles bloody and raw from your efforts to escape the darkened cell. You were still fighting, your body in the flight mode as you tried to reign on your fright, but failing. 

It was then you felt a liquid being splashed on you, the pain it brought pulling you out of your panic attack. You gasped in pain, as you watched steam rise from your skin, feeling as if it was trying to peel off. The pain was horrible, but the effect was immediate, you were no longer panicked. You could still feel the after effects, your heart beating rapidly, your lungs gasping for any sort of breath, your eyes stinging from the salty tears (which is why Demons never cried), your wrists and ankles burning.

Looking through red, puffy eyes, you saw Sam standing at the edge of the trap, a silver flask grasped tightly in his hand, ready to splash you with holy water once again.

"Sam." You mumbled, your voice hoarse from sobbing. You weren't sure what you meant, if it was a plea for help, or begging him to hurry up and kill you, so you didn't have to watch the two people you loved more than anything look at you with barely concealed hatred.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asked, screwing the lid back on the flask. "This trap is strong enough that your powers won't work down here, so there's no use trying." 

You shook your head, the slight movement amplifying the pounding echoing through your skull. Moaning, your head was tilted to the side, trying to alleviate some of the ache.

"I wasn't trying to use my powers." You said quietly, knowing he probably wouldn't believe you, but you wanted to try anyways, hoping something would sink through that you hadn't tried to hurt them.

Sam seemed to ponder your statement, his eyebrows drawn tightly together in thought, as he unconsciously rubbed his thumb up and down the smoothness of the silver flask. "Fine, so you weren't using your powers. What were you doing?"

You knew answering this one could be tricky, who would believe that a Demon would be afraid of the dark? It was like saying a vampire was afraid of blood, it went against everything in a Demon's nature to be afraid of the dark.

"You don't have to answer, I really don't care." Sam continued after you stayed silent, turning to leave the room and you panicked, knowing as soon as he left the room that door would close and you would be in the dark again, completely at the mercy of your thoughts. 

"It's stupid. " You started, causing him to stop in his tracks. Turning to face you again, he ran his hands through his long locks before tucking it behind his ear, a gesture that showed he was tired. Tired of being around you, or just exhausted, you weren't sure, but you hoped it was just exhaustion.

"What's stupid?" He asked, staying in the same spot, his face bathed in shadows.

"I'm afraid of the dark." You mumbled the words together, embarrassed. 

"You're what?" He questioned, taking a step closer, curious as always.

"I'm scared of the dark." You said, this time loud enough for him to hear and understand. 

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then you watched as a smile slowly overtook his face, before he threw his head back and started laughing. 

He was laughing so hard that he had to lean forward, placing his hand on his knees, and you sat there quietly waiting for him to finish.

A minute passed, and then he was finally able to calm down, wiping a tear from his eye, a tear of laughter that came at your expense. 

"It's not funny." You frown, wishing your arms were free so you could cross your arm in annoyance. 

Sam stopped his laughing, once he realized you were serious. "No, really? A Demon that's afraid of the dark? I thought I had heard of everything."

"Well I'm not like most Demons." You replied, and Sam came closer, into the trap with you. Crouching on his haunches, he was eye level with you. His hazel eyes shining through the shadows, eyes that were serious, and contemplating. 

The two of you stayed that way, Sam seeming to see you for the first time as a Demon, and you unable to move. Even if your hands and feet had been free, you would have stayed, wanting to prove that you weren't evil, just in the wrong life.

"Hmm." Was all he said as he he stood up, and once again headed towards the door. With his hand on the handle, he glanced back at you, his expression unreadable in the shadows, before he let go, moving out to the hallway. You watched until you could no longer see him, before you noticed you weren't shrouded in darkness, Sam had been kind enough to leave the door open, maybe trusting you enough that he knew you wouldn't try to escape.


	17. Time to Talk

It had been one of the longest nights of your life. True, Sam had left the door open, leaving you with a little more light than you had had before. It had been just enough that you didn't have another panic attack, so instead you brain was given plenty of time to think of everything that could go wrong, and you quickly found out you had quite the imagination when left on your own that long. 

You hoped that last night's meeting with Sam helped him see that you weren't like the other Demons they killed or exorcised. Maybe it threw him enough of a bone to turn those big wheels in his head, to get that intelligent brain thinking outside the box. Sam was your main hope, you knew Dean was hurting, and when he was hurting he would shut everyone out, relying on his damaged feelings to power him through. He would let those feelings override his common sense, leaving you in a very scary predicament. 

Moving your shoulders, trying to relax some of the knots in your muscles from hours spent sitting in the same spot, unable to even move your hand to scratch your nose. It was torture, you were used to being up, moving around, only sitting to read a book or enjoy a meal.

It was then you heard voices echoing down the hall, sounding closer with each step that accompanied them. Both voices were deep, the words mumbled, incoherent from the echoing of the hallway. You sat there patiently, it wasn't like you could do anything else, and waited for the Winchesters to join you.

It was only seconds later that Dean's heavy brown work boots came stomping through the door, his face already a mask of indifference, as he came right in and stood in front of you, his arms folded across his grey tshirt. Having him this close, but not being able to touch him, was like dangling a treat in front of a pet. It was a cruel form of punishment, much worse than being forced to sit in a chair for hours on end.

Sam had followed quickly behind, not trusting his brother alone with you. He stood next to Dean, his hands thrust in the pockets of his dark jeans, his shirt another one of his plaids, this one brown and green. His hair looked like fingers had been continuous run through it, his eyes tired. Maybe, you hoped, he had stayed up most of the night thinking about your predicament. 

"So I heard you played my brother last night. Made him feel sorry for you." Dean spat, his eyes narrowing in barely concealed distrust and something close to hatred.

"No, I would never do that to Sam!" You squealed, hating the fact that someone you had been so close to would think that of you.

Sam placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to reason with him. "Dean we don't know anything for certain."

Dean shrugged Sam's hands off, before stepping forward, into the trap with you. Your heart started beating faster, your palms turning sweaty as he came closer, his eyes portraying that of a predator, scaring the crap out of you. He stopped right in front of you, placing one hand on each arm rest, next to your hands, getting right in your face.

"I used to love you. But then you lied to me, and Sam. You used me, and for that, I will never trust you again. Never." Dean whispered menacingly, his green eyes growing darker with emotion. 

You tried again to state your case, "Dean I promise, my love for you was never fake! I..."

Before you could say anymore, Dean, with almost super human speed, reached out with one hand, and wrapped it around your neck, squeezing tightly. You tried to fight, but your thrashing about seemed to enrage him more, because he brought his other hand up, and in it was the Demon killing knife.

Once he let go of your neck, you took in deep, gasping breaths that soon evaporated when he placed the knife where his hand had been, pressing it so close that you felt it prick your skin. 

"Dean." Sam started, from behind him, out of your view. Your view was completely full of a heaving, grey clad chest. Dean ignored his brother, before using his other hand to grasp your hair, tilting it back painfully, giving the knife better access to your neck.

"Give me a good reason I shouldn't shove this into your neck right now." Dean threatened. 

Gulping, you felt the blade slide a little across your neck, drawing blood and you answered. "Because you still love me, and somewhere in there you might think that there is something different with me. That maybe I'm not like the rest of the Demons." 

Closing your eyes, you waited for the pain of the knife slicing your neck open, but when it didn't come, you squinted one eye open, noticing that Dean stood there stunned, the knife almost forgotten in his hand. It seemed like he hadn't been expecting that answer, and it had confused him, and brought out feelings he had been trying so hard to bury deep.

Sam took that as his opportunity, stepping forward until he was beside his brother, gently placing his hand on Dean's knife wielding arm, trying to get him to remove it from your neck. 

Shaking out of it, Dean jerked his arm from Sam, before pushing him out of the trap. "No, you don't get to play me like that." He growled at you, before raising his arm and bringing the knife down. Flinching, you waited for the pain to come, hoping your death would be quick and somewhat painless, and that with your death Dean could overcome his feelings of betrayal.


	18. Pain

You weren't sure what to expect, your imagination quickly running rampant with how much this would hurt, your eyes closed as tight as you could make them, your whole body tensed tighter than a spring. 

You heard the swoosh as the knife sliced through the air, heading straight towards you.  A tear trickles down your cheek as you heard the knife collide with something solid. 

You wait for the pain to engulf you, a white hot searing pain worse than anything you had felt before. When it didn't come, you opened one eye, just in time to watch Dean pull the knife from next to your head where he had embedded it in the chair.

Holding it out to Sam, he watched as his younger brother took it, before standing next to him, calmer than before. By this time you had opened both eyes, your body relaxing in relief that you were still alive, muscles you didn't even know you had sore from the tension.  Dean could have easily killed you, the look in his eyes showed that he was willing, but something stopped him. Maybe they still need information from you, or he figured he could use you as collateral. Or maybe the tough hunter still had feelings for you no matter how hard he tried to bury them away. 

Hoping it was the latter, you felt your breath slowly move back to normal, as Sam looked at Dean in confusion while Dean glared at you, his arms once again crossed in a familiar and confrontational gesture. It was the stance he used when interrogating victims, or getting answers from monsters. It felt weird to have that stance turned on you, to know that you were the one he was going against.

Knowing better than to talk and upset Dean again, you waited quietly, staring at Dean, not backing down from his unwavering green eyed gaze. It was tense, almost as tense as when he had the knife raised toward you, and multiple times you felt your self wanting to look away but forcing yourself not to.

The unsettling silence was startled by the sound of Dean's ringtone, and he quickly pulled it out of his pocket, frowning at the screen before answering it.

"Hey Crowley. " Dean growled into the phone, taking a couple of steps back to lean against the single metal table that was in the room.

Even with your superior hearing you couldn't hear what Crowley was saying on the other line, but whatever it was, it didn't make Dean very happy. 

"No, why would you think I knew where one of your Demon bitches were?" Dean finally spoke into the speaker, glancing briefly at you before turning his attention to his booted feet. 

So Crowley had noticed you were missing. That showed that the King of Hell cared for you enough to at least look for you.

"Listen, I know you sent her to spy on us, so as soon as I get my hands on her, I will..." Dean started to yell in the phone, but Crowley must have cut him off. He stood there, a perplexed look on his face as he listened to whatever Crowley was saying, before he was hung up on.

He turned to look at Sam and shrugged his shoulders. "That was one weird conversation. First he blames us for his favorite Demon missing, which is true, but then he started going on about another Demon we need to watch out for."

Raising an eyebrow, Sam asked for more information. "A new Demon? Why do we have to watch out for this Demon?" 

Dean shrugged again. "He said this Demon is very powerful, almost as much as Crowley himself. She's taken out quite a few hunters already."

You knew right away who they were talking about. It was Ebony, the one who had threatened you outside the bar that one day. You had always known she would be trouble, she was one of the oldest and most powerful Demons in hell. She had been Lucifer's pet, until he had been thrown back into the cage by Sam. Of course she would be going after hunters, she was trying to find Sam, and get revenge for Lucifer.

The two brothers were still talking while you had been deep in thought, and were turning away to leave the dungeon. 

"Wait!" You yelled, easily getting their attention. "I know who this Demon is! She wants to hurt Sam."

Dean came striding over, annoyed at the fact that you would use Sam as an attempt to free yourself. "Why, are you working with her? Planning on two timing us again?"

You shook your head, so frustrated that no matter what you did, you couldn't get them to understand or believe you. "She would kill me if she saw me again, there's no love lost between us. Please let me help, I promise you won't regret it!"

Dean shook his head, letting you know there was no way in hell he would work with you again. However, Sam had made his way back, and he placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean looked at him in confusion. 

"if everything Crowley and Y/N said, we're going to need all the help we can get. Maybe we can work something out." Sam said, trying to reason with Dean.

"Are you crazy Sam? We can't trust her, she'd probably throw us to this Demon the first chance she would get." Dean argued.

"Come on, let's talk about this in the library." Sam replied, and you hoped he would win the argument, and give you a chance to prove yourself once again.

As they left, you threw them one more fact, hoping it would help in your cause. "The reason she wants Sam is for revenge. She was Lucifer's pet, and she wants to bring him back."

Sam's tall back stiffened in shock, the only showing that they had heard you. They kept walking, leaving you alone again in the cold dungeon, once again leaving the door open for light.


	19. The Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this story has over 1.2k reads!! Thank you to everyone who has read, commented and/or given kudos. I appreciate it so much!!

You weren't sure how much time had passed, with no clock in the dungeon, or sunlight shining through, you sat through what could have been just hours or even a day. You weren't sure, but you knew your butt was extremely sore from sitting in the wooden chair, your legs and arms numb from lack of movement. Your stomach was starting to grumble, reminding you how much you still enjoyed eating. It wasn't easy trying to pass the time, there was nothing to focus on, unless you counted the fact that your life, and freedom, were hanging in the balance. 

Sam and Dean, you could only imagine, were busy upstairs in the library, researching this new threat, trying to figure out if they could believe you. It wouldn't come down to trust, not yet. You had shattered that when you had lived here and hidden the fact that you were a Demon. You weren't sure if trust would ever be a factor again, and that really hurt. You might be a Demon, but you were only a crossroads Demon, and a nice one at that. Trust was part of your job. 

Sam was probably trying to persuade Dean, knowing they would need all the help they could get, while Dean would argue and sputter, not wanting your help even if it was the only thing available. You had hurt him, deeply, and he wasn't one to quickly forgive. 

As you sat there, imagining what was going on above your head, you knew what you wished for. You wished that they would decide you were the best help they could get, and let you go on this hunt with them. If that happened, you would do your best trying to make them see that you had never meant to deceive them, or hurt them. And just maybe, with a lot of persuasion on your part, maybe you could heal some of the rift that had come between you and the only people you had been close to since you were a human, not counting Crowley. 

Tapping your fingers on the wood, you waited, wondering if they would ever let you know their decision,  unless they decide to deal with it on their own, and leave you behind. That was a possibility, one you didn't savor in the least. You wanted, no needed, to get out of this dungeon. Much longer in it and no matter how much light shown in, you would find yourself becoming more upset, and distraught. Not good.

Just when you had started working yourself into a frenzy, scared that you would be stuck down there forever, you heard hurried footsteps. Taking deep, calming breaths, you watched as Dean strode into the room, grabbing the only other chair in the dungeon, bringing it with him. He slammed it down right in front of you, and you winced as the metal grated against the stone floor. He plopped down in the chair, placing his hands on his knees as he stared at you, his green eyes dark and mysterious, stubble forming on his chin, more so than his usual five o'clock shadow.

You drunk in the sight of him, missing the warmth of his arms around you, the way he would tuck your head into the curve of his neck, his chin resting on your hair. The way his eyes would darken with lust, and something you later found out was love when he looked at you, causing heat to pool low in your belly, and your heart to beat uncontrollably. You missed the way he would laugh, his eyes crinkling up at the side, his head thrown back, letting the laughter fully engulf him. You missed the Dean who loved you, not this Dean, who would rather see you dead, just because you were a Demon who had accidentally played him.

"So." His deep, whiskey smooth voice startled you. "You're sure about this Ebony person? That she's all that powerful, that she can really bring Lucifer back?" He asked.

You answered as truthfully as you could. "Yeah she's one scary bitch.  I've done my best trying to stay away from her, she's never cared much for me. But thats probably because I've never been evil enough for her."

Dean scoffed at the last part, his eyebrow raising in humor at the suggestion that you were anything but evil. "But you didn't answer my question. Do you think she can bring back Lucifer?"

"Yes." You said simply, knowing it was a huge possibility.

"Damn it." He cussed, before standing up and moving the chair. Without another word, he left, and you were once again alone, more curious than ever. 

You weren't alone that long this time. Soon Sam and Dean came marching back into your dungeon, identical looks of resignation on their face. Standing at the cusp of the trap, they stood and stared at you, Dean with crossed arms, Sam with his hands in his pockets. Neither spoke for a moment, both assessing you, Sam longer than Dean. It seemed like Dean couldn't even stand to look at you anymore.

Finally Sam spoke, the voice of reason. "Dean and I have been talking about this demon Ebony, what we should do about her, who should help. We've come to the decision that no matter how much we don't trust you.." Dean interrupted him then. 

"And we don't trust you, at all." He almost spat at you, rage, and sadness mixed in his eyes. 

"What I'm trying to say." Sam started to say again, throwing a bitch face Dean's way. "We need your help, no matter how much it goes against the grain, you're our best hope."

It was a start,  you thought to yourself. You could work with this, work yourself out of your predicament, and even if he couldn't love you anymore, maybe you could part, alive, and as friends. 

"I would love to help you!" You answered. 

"Here's the deal." Dean replied. "We need to know for sure you won't just smoke out once we get you topside again. So you have two choices."


	20. Reasoning

"There's two choices." Dean reminded you as you sat there quietly, still trying to accept the fact that you were back  hunting with the Winchesters. 

"What are these choices?" You asked Dean, because Sam was suddenly standing behind him, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. That didn't bode well for you, but you were ready  maybe even far past the point of readiness, to leave this dungeon, and the cuffs that seemed to be permanently etched into your skin. Your butt had never been one of your strong features, but you were pretty sure it was flattened beyond recognition. 

"Either you wear these cuffs constantly, to make sure you can't escape. But that's a hindrance because people give cuffs weird looks, and you won't be able to move around as easy." Dean explained. 

"And the second?" You asked, almost terrified to know.

"Well, when a demon gets shot with a bullet that's had a devils trap carved into it, they are unable to transport or switch bodies." Dean replied.

Your mouth gaping open, you had to clarify, "You want to shoot me?"

That's when Sam decided to step up and back into the conversation. "We were thinking more like carving it, or getting a tattoo. "

"But a tattoos permanent. Wouldn't it probably kill me?" You asked, starting to freak out.

Sam shook his head, "I don't think so. And you could always cut it out afterwards."

You considered your choices, which weren't that great, but you couldn't complain. Either you kept on the cuffs, which had already bruised and bloodied your wrists and ankles, or you got shot and the bullet had to stay inside. Your third choice was a devils trap tattoo, and while it didn't seem like the best idea, it definitely seemed the best choice of the three.

"I guess I will go with the tattoo." You answered and Dean clapped his hands together in anticipation. 

"I was hoping that would be your answer, I've always wanted to try my hand at tattoos." He said, and you shuddered, not relishing the idea of Dean wielding a sharp needle on your skin.

He came forward, and in his hand he held the key to your cuffs. It took him no time to undo the ones around you ankles, and you waited patiently as he undid the cuffs attached to your chair, before making sure one set was attached to your wrist as you rose out of your seat, your legs weak from lack of use.

"But." You stuttered, hoping they would have taken them all off. 

Dean shook his head. "You don't have your tattoo yet, so we need to make sure you can vanish just yet." With that he placed his hand on your back, the sudden contact causing shivers to run up and down your spine. Your body was starving for any sort of touch from Dean, and even though it didn't mean anything, you caught yourself wanting to lean into it, but you knew you couldn't.

Dean kept his hand on your back, guiding you out of the dungeon, and you said goodbye to it, hoping you never had to go back into that room. You quietly walked down the hallway, one Winchester brother in front of you, one behind as they guided you to the library. 

"I know I don't have any say here, but can I at least have a shower, a change of clothes, and some food. Please?" You begged, once you were standing in your favorite room of the bunker. Nothing had changed,  the tables were still full of various books texts, and empty beer bottles, automatically making you feel at home.

"I don't know." Dean started, but Sam jumped in. "Sure, I think we still have some of your old clothes here, Dean will help you with that, and it's time Dean and I ate anyways. The tattoo can wait a little bit."

Thankful for Sam's generosity,  you moved when Dean pushed your back to the hallway, towards the bedrooms. He pushed you inside your old room, and you stood there awkwardly as he ruffled through your drawers. You glanced around the room, noticing that it had looked like a tornado had ransacked your room. Your meager belongings were strewn everywhere, some items broken and shattered, clothes were ripped and thrown across your bed and floor.

"Dean, what happened?" You asked. 

He turned around with his hands full of clothing. "I was angry." He simply states before ushering you into the bathroom. He glanced around the room, no doubt checking the room to make sure it was Demon proof. There were no windows, and only one door. You couldn't exactly smoke out, unless you wanted to lose your own personal body, and you were kind of attached to it.

Dean seemed pleased with what he saw, and he stood there, his arms crossed, intently watching you. "Well?" He asked, when you just stood there.

"You want me to get undressed, with you standing there?" You mumbled, your fade turning red at the thought.

"Sweetheart, I've seen it before. Just hurry up." He stated, not moving. 

You attempted to pull your shirt over your head, deciding it wasn't worth fighting over, when you realized it was going to be impossible with your hands still cuffed. With your shirt awkwardly bunched up, you held your hands up to Dean, silently begging him. He sighed, and strode forward, unlocking one side, but leaving the other side wrapped around your wrist. He pulled you forward until you were standing in the shower. "Strip." He told you, his eyes darkening with what seemed like lust. 

With the cuff hanging loose, you pulled your shirt over your head, before stepping out of your jeans, leaving you in your panties and bra. Taking them from you, he threw them over his shoulder, his eyes traveling up and down your body. Gulping from his intense gaze, you reached behind you and unhooked your bra. His eyes followed your every move, and you felt heat pooling low in your belly, your nipple tightening. With your bra off, you were now only in your panties, and you slid them down, your hair covering your flushed face. Dean took them and the bra, and in a quick motion, snapped the other cuff to the shower handle.

"Be quick." He told you before leaving the bathroom, the door staying open.

It wasn't easy, maneuvering in the shower while one hand was cuffed to the handle, but you enjoyed it as much as possible. The warm water rushed over your body, soothing your aches from sitting so long. Your shampoo had been left behind, and you moaned as your hair was cleaned for the first time in days. You were just finished washing your body when you heard Dean's gruff voice. "Aren't you done yet?"

The water shutting off was your answer, and as soon as you pulled back the shower curtain, you were hit by a big, white, fluffy towel. "Cover yourself." He growled, almost as if hadn't just been raking his eyes over your body ten minutes earlier. 

You did as you were told, and he silently leaned over and undid the cuff locking you to the shower, and you stepped out, drying yourself off. Dean stood in the doorway, his green eyes hooded, but alert, still watching your every move.

He had placed your new clothes on the counter, and you quickly pulled them on, thankful for the chance to have clean clothes gracing your skin again. 

Once you were dressed, Dean guided you back to the library, where Sam was waiting with sandwiches and beer. Dean pushed you down into one of the chairs lining the table, before cuffing you to the large table, ensuring you went nowhere.

You were famished, and as soon as your eyes noticed the sandwich, your stomach let out a huge rumble.

"I didn't think Demons got hungry." Sam stated, setting the plate in front of you.

"Most don't, but I'm not like most of them." You answered, before shoving your face. He just shook his head before sitting down next to you. 

It was a silent meal, Dean and Sam giving each other pointed looks while you relished your sandwich, the best thing you had ever eaten it seemed like. Once you were full, you pushed the plate away, noticing Dean watching you.

"Ready?" He asked, holding up the tattoo gun, and the food that had tasted so wonderful earlier now sat like lead in your belly.


	21. Tattoo

"Stop wiggling!" Dean grumbled at you, trying to hold your arm still so he could start with the tattoo, but you were nervous, and every time he came close you felt yourself flinching away, your arm moving with you.

"Sam, go get your gun." Dean threw over his shoulder at his brother who stood there watching the proceedings without offering to help. You knew what Dean meant, if you didn't sit still and suffer through this tattoo, you would get shot, and you didn't want that. 

I'm sorry, I just hate needles." You explained, before turning your head away, closing your eyes as tight as they could go. You were surprised when you felt a hand grasp your own, and you opened one eye to see Sam holding your hand. "This should help. Squeeze when it gets too bad."

Closing your eyes again, you heard Dean mutter under his breath. "Softie. A Demon shouldn't be afraid of needles, it doesn't seem right." 

Sam ignored his brother, squeezing your hand reassuringly. Soon you heard the sound of the tattoo gun starting up, and then the press of the needle against your skin. You jumped a little at first, holding tight to Sam's hand, but you soon grew used to the pressure, the sound of the gun lulling you into a calmness.

Hours passed, and Dean stayed on task, working hard, and you used the time to study him. His hair seemed a little longer than last time, his lips pursed together as he concentrated on the tattoo. You remember when you could touch those lips whenever you wanted, either with your fingers, or your lips. They were soft and plump, and you would like nothing better than to take his thick bottom lip between your own, gently tugging on it. 

Soon, he stood up, and clapped his hands together, happy with the job he had done. Glancing down at your arm, you noticed he had done a detailed version of the devils trap, not like the simple ones they used when hunting. This one was more complex, with more symbols and meanings. 

"I think it turned out great." Dean said, and you had to agree. You never would have considered getting a tattoo, it had never been a part of your lifestyle. Only pirates, or hooligans had tattoos in your era, it had been greatly frowned upon in the upper class.

Sam let go of your hand, flexing his fingers. "How do you feel?" He asked, curiously. 

"Fine I guess. I don't feel any different. " You stated truthfully. 

"Well I don't know about you guys, but I'm beat. Let's head to bed, then we can work on research again tomorrow." Dean stated, yawning as he talked. 

He started heading to the hallway, completely forgetting about you. "Dean? What about me?"

"Yeah, you can go too, you don't need my permission." Dean threw over his shoulder, obviously tired if he wasn't thinking about you getting away.

"Dean, I think she means is where can she sleep." Sam helped you out.

That stopped Dean, and he turned to look at you. You really hoped he didn't want to throw you back in the dungeon, you weren't sure you could handle that. 

"Well, you'll sleep with me." He stated, and you found yourself gasping. 

"What?" Both you and Sam said at the same time. You never would have expected that answer from Dean, and it seemed like Sam hadn't either.

"It's the best choice. This way she doesn't have to sleep in the dungeon, and I still don't trust her enough to have her own room. So it's either me or him, but he's so big he takes up most of his bed."

You nodded, understanding Dean's reasoning. You followed Dean down the hallway, past your old room before standing in the doorway, unsure. It was one thing to agree with Dean, it was another thing to stand in the doorway and stare at the bed you would be sharing. 

"Come on, I'm tired." Dean said, his voice grumpy. Not wanting to anger him, you stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind you. Dean threw you one of his shirts and you caught it, looking at him curiously. 

He groaned. "I just thought you might want to change into something more comfortable. I don't care, do what you want."

Touched that he cared at least a little, you quickly changed, his tshirt skimming your thighs. Placing your folded clothes on the dresser, you slid into bed, and waited for Dean. He was already down to his t-shirt, and was unbuckling his pants. You glanced away, your face blushing. 

You heard him chuckle, before the bed sank next to you, and you turned to face Dean again. 

"Do you need to be cuffed to the bed? Or can you behave and get some sleep?" Dean asked, swinging the cuffs in his hand. 

"I'll be good I promise. It just feels nice not to be in that chair." You told him, thankful he was giving you the chance to prove your self. 

"I'm a light sleeper." Dean threatened, before he leaned over and turned the light off, turning the room pitch black, and you felt your heart beat start to pick up. Unable to stop yourself you whimpered.

You tried, you really did, not wanting to disrupt Dean, but the dark was too much, and you whimpered again.

"What?" He mumbled into his pillow, on the far side of the bed.

"It's the dark." You whispered, ashamed that you were afraid of something so stupid.

Dean groaned, and you felt the bed dip as he climbed out of it, and you waited in fear as he shuffled around the room, before turning the bathroom light on.

Sliding back into bed, he glanced at you. "Better?"

"Much, thank you." You said, turning on your side. Sleep came easily, you were exhausted from everything that had happened the last couple of days.

\-----------------------------

Waking up, you felt disoriented for a minute until the light shining from the bathroom reminded you that you were sharing a bed with Dean. It was then you felt what had woken you up in the first place. Your arm was burning, from where your new tattoo was, all the way up to your shoulder. Your head ached, and you felt as if you might be sick.

Groaning, you rushed out of bed, making it to the toilet before your stomach emptied itself of its contents. Over your retching, you heard Dean cussing, stumbling out of bed.

"What the hell? I didn't think Demons could get sick." Dean stated from the door, staring at you, unsure what he should do. He quickly left, and you would have wondered what he was up to, but your stomach started heaving again. You felt horrible, like the one time you had gotten food poisoning when you had been a human.

Dean returned, with a sleepy Sam in tow, just as you were wobbling your way away from the bathroom. As soon as you stood next to them, you smiled weakly up at them, your body weak and sore.

"Y/N." Dean started to say but stopped as he noticed your knees were wobbling, unable to support your weight any longer. He bent down, placing one hand behind your knees, the other around your shoulders, lifting you with ease, the slight movement agony. He placed you back on your side of the bed, covering you with blankets, before placing his hand on his forehead. 

"I have no clue how a Demon's body, or meat suit works, but I don't think they should be this hot." Dean told Sam as you layed there, feeling horrible. 

"It's my body. Not a meat suit, never a meat suit." You mumbled through the pain, not sure if they heard you or not.

"Dean look." Sam said pointing to your arm. You glanced down, weakly noticing the skin around your tattoo, leading up your arm was a deep red.

"I think she's having a reaction to the tattoo." Sam explained. 

Dean ran his hands through his hair, obviously frustrated. "Well, what do we do now?" 

They were both looking down at you, as if you could answer them, but you just closed your eyes and fainted.


	22. Sickness

As you swayed in and out of consciousness, each time making you moan and tremble in pain, you could hear swatches of the boys conversations, and they sounded worried. You were worried yourself, as a Demon you shouldn't have been able to have gotten sick, but yet here you were. 

You were too weak to make it into the bathroom, so Sam had placed a trashcan near the head of the bed, but by now they were just dry heaves, nothing left in your stomach to empty. Your head felt like it was being split open by a log chopper, and your entire body hurt something dreadful. You were freezing, and Dean had covered you with all the extra blankets he could find, but it didn't stop the horrible shivers that ran through your body. 

As you leaned over once again to heave into the trashcan, you felt a soothing hand on your back. "I wish there was something we could do." Dean said, frustration edging his words.

"I don't even know why I'm sick." You said, your voice hoarse. Trying to manuever back into bed, you self consciously wiped your chin with a tissue, glancing at it before you threw it away. What you saw had your heart flipping out of your chest, the white tissue was covered in a dark red substance, blood. That couldn't be good. You tried to hide it from Dean, but he had already noticed it, and his mouth opened in shock. 

Laying down and closing your eyes, you were too weak to do anything else. As you waited for sleep to claim you again, you felt Dean climb off of the bed, and join his brother who had just returned to the room.

"Sam I think we are killing her." Dean whispered, but you could still hear him.

"How could we be killing her, we aren't even touching her?" Sam said, confused.

When Dean spoke again, he still sounded frustrated. "The tattoo. I think the tattoo is trying to kill her. The rash on her arm has gotten worse, and Sam, she threw up blood."

Sam stayed quiet a moment before answering his brother. "So what do you want to do? We could just wait and see what happens. Just yesterday you were ready to stab her with the demon knife."

You weren't too happy with Sam's opinion, but you were too weak to do anything about it, and you had a feeling he had said those words to goad Dean. You weren't sure, but it hadn't sounded like something Sam would normally say.

"We need to have her help killing that Demon Ebony. Without her, we are screwed. We need her alive and well." Dean insisted.

"Are you sure that's the only reason?" Sam lightly teased.

You wanted to listen to more, but you felt the darkness pulling you under again, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

\------------------------------------------

The next time you fought for consciousness, you saw a familiar face blurred in front of you. "Crowley?" You were able to croak.

"I'm here my darling, what have these buffoons done to you." He said lovingly, pushing a lock of dampened hair of away from your face.

"Hey!" Dean protested, but you saw Crowley glare at him.

He stood up, and strode over to the older Winchester, pointing a finger at him. "You tattooed a Devil's Trap on her, of all Demons, her! Then you wonder why she is so sick, and dying!" Crowley yelled, his voice rising with anger.

"Woah, we were just trying to make it so she wouldn't vanish on us." Dean explained, taking a step back and holding his hands up. "But wait, it's true, she's dying?"

"Yes, you moron, you pretty much killed her." Crowley told him, looking back at you, noticing you were attempting to get out of bed, your muscles shaky and uncooperative.

"Y/N, honey, don't move. You will make it worse." Crowley told you, helping you lay back down in the bed.

Once you were somewhat comfortable again, Crowley turned his attention back to the Winchesters.

"Is there anything we can do to help her?" Sam asked.

"And what did you mean earlier about just her? Would it have worked on another Demon?" Dean asked.

Crowley sighed. "You buffoons, stop talking. If we don't work now, then she will die. And that doesn't mean going to hell and coming back with a new meat suit. We need to work together."

Sam gave his brother a pointed look, then turned to Crowley. "Fine, what can we do?"

"There is a spell, to counter attack the poisoning, and I have most of the ingredients in hell. I just need the blood of the person who did the tattoo, and we will be good, as long as we can do the spell in no later than an hour. She won't last past that."

Just then, you felt an awful urge to vomit, and leaned over the trash can again, this time letting loose a stream of blood. Moaning you leaned back, not realizing your lips were covered in your own blood.

"Be quick Crowley." Dean warned, and Crowley vanished.

Dean came over to you, pressing a callused hand against your forehead. "Damn, you shouldn't be this hot. And not in the good looking sense either. I'm so sorry we did this to you." Dean told you, gently rubbing your hair back, and you leaned into the touch, grateful for any sort of contact.

"It's Okay." You were able to cough out, grabbing Dean's wrist to show you meant it.

"No, it's not. Because we were so worried about keeping you here for help, we tried to kill you. And nobody deserves that, not even a.." He didn't finish his sentence, and you knew what he had been going to say, a monster like you. You knew it, but it still hurt, that Dean couldn't and probably would never see past the fact that you were a Demon, and in a way you wished this sickness would kill you, that way you wouldn't have to face life knowing you loved, and lost Dean Winchester.

Crowley was back by then, holding a bowl and other various containers in his hands. Pushing Dean's belongings off of the nightstand, he placed them down, before filling the bowl with each ingredient. Everyone was so intent on watching him, they didn't question the ingredients, or notice that you were gradually worsening, your arms going limp, your eyes glazing over.

"Dean." You tried to say, but the words weren't able to come out, and you laid there, knowing they were probably too late to save you.


	23. Rebuilding

You no longer hurt, was your first conscious thought as you woke up.  Your body temperature felt normal, your arm and head no longer pounding and your stomach finally settled. 

Either you were dead, and somehow made it to heaven, or they had been able to fix you before you had croaked. 

Stretching your arms over your head, you heard a slight chuckle from beside you. "Somebody's finally awake." The deep voice said, and you knew it was Dean. 

Opening your eyes, the first thing you saw was Dean, and you imagined you could quickly get used to that sight. He was leaning against the headboard, his long, lean, bow legs stretched out in front of him. His grey flannel was unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a black T-shirt underneath, a laptop on his lap, and a cup of coffee on the nightstand beside him.  The smell of the coffee caused your stomach to rumble, and Dean furrowed his brows in concern.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, closing the laptop and focusing his attention on you. 

"A million times better, thanks to you and Crowley."

He turned away, placing his laptop next to his coffee. "Don't thank me. If it wasn't for my stubbornness,  you wouldn't have been in that predicament to begin with." 

You knew that was as close to an apology as you would get from Dean, and you truly appreciated it. 

"I don't blame you Dean, not for that, not for anything. Not for even wanting to kill me, I should have..." You told him, trying to apologize for keeping your true self hidden from him, but the door opening stopped you. 

Crowley and Sam stood at the door, Sam with an amused look on his face while Crowley held a tray full of food. Walking forward he placed it across your legs, and you noticed it held all your favorite foods. 

"After what you went through, you need to eat, regain your strength." Crowley explained, and you picked up the cup of hot chocolate, taking a sip. 

"Thank you. For this, and for saving me." You told Crowley.

"Damn, for a Demon you have some nice manners. It's weird." Dean said as he climbed off the bed. 

"Squirrel, I already thought you knew, she's most definitely not like other Demons." Crowley said mysteriously.

Dean looked at you, a hooded gaze you couldn't quite discern. "I think I'm starting to see that. Doesn't mean I will ever forgive you, or trust you again." 

Sam stopped him from leaving the room. "Crowley, that's the second time you've said something like that about Y/N. What did you mean her of all Demons, and that she's not like most Demons?" Sam asked. 

You were interested in his answer also. Ever since you had first laid eyes on Crowley, he had treated you differently than other Demons, and you've never felt like you had fit in. 

"That's on a need to know basis, and I'm not ready for you to know yet. I want you concentrating on how to get this Ebony. Then maybe." Crowley said, ticking off both Winchesters.

Ignoring them, he came back to your side, brushing your hair back. "I really don't like you staying with these neandrathals. Especially when they just tried to kill you. Please come back with me, where I can keep you safe."

"But Crowley, I still have the tattoo, I couldn't transport out of here, even if I wanted to." You told him, but you didn't plan on leaving anyways.

Crowley raised your arm, and you noticed there wasn't a tattoo anymore, the spell must have gotten rid of it along with the sickness that came with it. 

"Now how am I going to get them to trust me? I will have to be shackled again." You whispered, your face falling at that depressing thought. 

"So, no going back to hell with me?" Crowley asked, already knowing the answer, you shaking your head as he said the words. 

He turned to the Winchesters, standing to his full height, which was well below both men, trying to show he meant business. "I wanted her to go with me, back to hell, away from you morons. But she likes you for some weird reason, and said no." 

Sam and Dean both seemed surprised at that, and looked towards you for confirmation. You nodded slightly, a shy smile on your lips. 

"Oh, and boys. Leave the cuffs in the dungeon. If you need anything, use this. It will stop her from using her Demon powers, and only a human can put it on and take it off. She won't be able to." Crowley said, dropping a velvet bag into Dean's hand before he vanished. 

Dean opened the bag, pulling out a small, hand crafted silver bracelet. He brought it over to you, showing you the delicate devils trap and other warding symbols etched into the silver. 

Raising your arm up, you waited patiently for Dean to place it on you, wondering if it would hurt. Dean kept glancing between you and the bracelet, seeming to fight an internal battle. Finally he placed the bracelet back into the bag. 

"I don't think you're well enough yet to try and leave, and I was thinking as long as we were in the bunker you wouldn't have to wear it. Only when we are travelling." Dean explained, his words flustered and coming out fast. 

You were surprised at Dean, that he would trust you enough to do it this way. It was a small step, but a very important one, and you wanted to prove that he wouldn't regret his choice.


	24. Clues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow 2 chapters up in one day, I love having snow days! As always I hope you enjoy!

Days had passed, and even you were getting frustrated with the lack of clues that you had been able to pull up. You would think that with the three of you working around the clock, one of you would have found something on Ebony. She couldn't have just vanished. 

Moaning, you slammed another book shut, looking where Sam and Dean were both studying laptops. You still weren't comfortable with technology, it hadn't been around during your time, and it still made you nervous to this day.

Standing up, you stretched your back, trying to relieve some of the tension that had made its way to your shoulders. Planning on making dinner for everyone, you headed to the kitchen but were stopped by Dean. "Where are you going?" He asked, concerned. 

"To the kitchen. To make dinner." You answered, pushing past him. In the kitchen you stormed around, gathering ingredients and slamming them on the counter. Dean hadn't placed the bracelet on you yet, but in a way you wish he would have. You were tired of the questions, and him never being farther than a step behind you. He still made you sleep with him in his bed, but you didn't mind that as much, just this morning you had woken up in his arms. It had only lasted a minute, once he had noticed, he had shot out of bed like he had been stung. 

Sam wasn't nearly as bad. He let you move about on your own, starting to trust you again. Not once had you even acted like you were going to run, and you were hoping Dean would trust you at least a little. You knew you had shattered his heart, and it would take time for any sort of relationship to build up again, but your heart had been shattered too, and kept crumbling every time you looked at him, and a that look of distrust and loathing.

"Is everything okay?" His deep, whiskey on the rocks voice sounded from the doorway. "I heard a lot of rattling going on in here."

"Everything's fine. You don't have to worry, I'm not trying to run away." You grumbled, your mood horrible. 

He threw his hands up in defeat. "Woah, just trying to help. I can leave."

As he turned to leave, you instantly felt sorry for snapping at him, it wasn't all his fault. "I'm sorry Dean. I'm just frustrated that we haven't found anything by now."

Stopping in the doorway, his hand on the frame, he turned to face you, studying your face for a moment, before his suddenly hardened. "Don't worry. Something will come up soon, then you can go back to being a precious Demon." He almost snarled at you before leaving.

"Dean wait, thats..." You tried to explain to his retreating back, but it was too late, he was out of earshot.

Instead, you busied yourself with dinner, knowing that at least you could do that right, and no one would be upset with you over it.

An hour later,  you brought out sizzling plates full of steak and potatoes, placing one in front of each boy before going and getting your own. Cutting into the steak, you moaned at the taste, loving a good medium rare steak.

"Should we give you and your steak some privacy?" Sam teased, causing you to blush.

"I'm sorry, I've just always enjoyed food." You explained. 

"I know the feeling." Dean said, actually agreeing with you on something. 

The three of you ate in silence, the two men still intent on their computer screens, you content to just sit and watch for the moment. Taking their plates, you took them into the kitchen, before bringing out your secret weapon. 

"Pie?" Dean asked, almost as if he was imagining things.

"Pie." You confirmed, handing him the biggest slice.

"Did you make this?" He asked, his mouth full of the apple pie filling,  and flaky crust.

"Yes I did. I took a baking class while at boarding school, and most of the techniques are still the same." You said, enjoying your own slice. 

"Wait, you were in boarding school? When?" Sam asked, interested in the history aspect of it all.

So you found yourself explaining a little bit about your past, about your wealthy but loving parents, your schooling, everything that happened before you met Steven.

"Wow, sounded like an interesting time to be alive." Sam said, in awe of your previous life.

"Yeah, I don't think you would have liked it Sammy. No laptops." Dean teased, earning a bitch face from Sam and a giggle from you. It was fun seeing them like this again, teasing and laughing with each other. You had caused quite a disturbance when they brought you back, which had seeped into their relationship. 

They returned to their research, and you were about ready to head back to the kitchen when Sam spoke up. "Guys, I think I found something!"

"What?" Both you and Dean said at the same time. 

"There's a small town in south Minnesota that's seem some pretty random stuff lately. Maybe even demonic stuff."

You marched over to Sam, looking over his shoulder, reading the news article. "It sounds like it could be her. Killing off the jealous housewives would be something she would do, she's probably sleeping with their husbands. I think we should check it out."

Sam and Dean hurried to gather their items, and you quickly grabbed a couple changes of clothing from your old room, throwing it into a duffle bag, arriving at the Impala before the boys.

As soon as they showed up and tossed their bags into the trunk, Dean turned to look and you. "Why aren't you in the car yet?"

Instead of answering, you raised your wrist, telling him without words that you were willing to cooperate any way they needed.

Sighing, Dean looked between you and Sam, frowning at the shrugged shoulders his brother gave him. He slowly took the velvet bag out of his pocket, and held out the bracelet, but not putting it on you.

"It's alright Dean." You told him, unsure why he was hesitating.

He finally made a decision, surprising you by putting the bracelet back into the bag, tucking it away. "You haven't tried to escape yet. And if you do we can just summon you back, and then I will put it on you."

You were speechless, and could only stare at the man.

"Don't make me regret my decision. Now get in the car." He grumbled, and you complied.


	25. Road Trip

You had missed the road trip just as much as you had missed the boys. There was something about the open road, sitting in the back seat of a classic car, listening to rock music, your hair flapping in the breeze. It was exhilarating and relaxing at the same time.

Dean handled the Impala well, traveling down back country roads with ease, while Sam spent his time sleeping or researching more about Ebony. You stayed quiet, not wanting to ruin their good moods, instead you were content to sit quietly in the back and observe. 

You loved this side of Dean, how confident he was behind the wheel, how loose he was as he kept time with the song on the radio, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. You knew Dean would always have a special place in your heart, and no matter what happened on this hunt, you would always love him.

"Let's stop in the next town for the night." Sam broke the silence. "It's the closest town to our destination, it will give us a chance to regroup and get ready for tomorrow."

You couldn't believe how fast the road trip had gone. It seemed like you had just left the bunker, but now here you were, hours later, almost to your destination. 

Dean pulled into a single level motel, one that was made to look like it consisted of small log cabins. Sam climbed out, going to grab a room, while you and Dean were in charge of the luggage.  
Dean threw your bag towards you, falling back into your old rhythm you had while hunting.

By the time Sam had returned, you and Dean had the Impala unloaded, and the three of you made your way into the small room. The beds were log, as was everything else in the room. There was a small couch, so small two people would be crowded sitting on it, let alone any of you attempting to sleep. 

"Sam you take that bed, Y/N and I will take this one." Dean ordered, giving you no choice, not that you minded. You enjoyed sharing a bed with Dean, and him wanting to keep an eye on you was the perfect excuse. 

"So what's the plan?" Dean asked, knowing that Sam had done more research, and had a better of idea of what to do. 

"Well, we have it narrowed down to a city, so tomorrow we need to narrow it down farther than that. Get a lay of the land, find out how many Demons she has with her, that type of thing."

Just then you spoke up, a worrying thought in your head. "Wait, is it a good idea for Sam to go? After all, he's still Lucifer's true vessel, and I can see Ebony trying to contain him until she can free Lucifer."

Sam started to disagree, but Dean spoke first. "I agree with you Y/N, but if she's as tough as she says, then we need all the help we can get. I was even planning on calling Cas for this one."

"As long as he doesn't try to kill me again." You muttered under your breath, as a feeling you hadn't felt in a while started traveling through your body, a nervous energy telling you that you were being summoned. 

"We have a problem guys. I'm being summoned. Hurry, the bracelet!" You said, knowing it would stop the summoning, but before Dean could get it out of his pocket, you were gone. 

The decor was completely different, one minute you were in a room belonging to the pioneer age, now you were in a stone room, with tapestries and heavy Gothic furniture. You were back in Crowley's personal chambers.

"Hello Darling. I wasn't sure if my summoning would work, but I had to try. It's too dangerous to go topside right now." He said while sitting next to a blazing fire, a glass of scotch in his hand. 

Sitting down  in the chair across from him, you scowled in annoyance. "You do realize you probably screwed up my relationship with the Winchesters even more now."

He just shrugged before taking a sip. "They will get over it. Now, how are you feeling?"

"As good as new. But Crowley, you couldn't have brought me here just to talk about my health." You said, standing up to pour yourself a small amount of his expensive scotch. There weren't many he would share his precious scotch with, but you were one.

"No, I wanted to know how the hunting of Ebony was going." He said, getting down to business. 

So you told him everything you had found out, which wasn't much. He listened intently, before downing the rest of his drink. "Here's what I know. You're correct about the town. She's currently residing in a fancy town home  in a different meat suit than you last saw her. She has at least three buffoons helping her, maybe more. Thats all the intel I've been able to gather."

"That's more than we've been able to get." You told him, thanking him.

"Now, on to different matters. I knew you had feelings for Squirrel, but after your near death fiasco, I hadn't realized how much you meant to him."

You laughed at that. "He used to have feelings for me, but now those feelings are of distrust and hate."

"I don't think so. I think Squirrel still loves you, and I wanted to warn you. Steer clear of him. Everybody who gets close to the Winchesters dies, or worse. Do this job, then come back to me, where I can keep you safe." Crowley pleaded with you.

You knew Crowley cared for you, that he always had, and you were grateful for that. But you weren't going to promise something that you weren't sure you could follow through on. "Crowley I appreciate the concern, but can we just play it by ear? Who knows, they might kick me out as soon as this job is done anyways. Because I don't think Dean loves me anymore."

Crowley smiled sadly at you, before getting ready to send you back to the Winchesters. 

"Wait Crowley, when are you going to tell me why you said the things about me not being a normal Demon? You can't say things like that, then not follow through!" You asked, knowing you only had seconds to spare before you were gone.

"Of course I can. I can do anything I want. King of Hell, remember?" He said, before you were gone.


	26. Jealousy

You were transported back to your motel room, and you watched in shock as Dean tore the room apart, cussing as he did so.

"Damn it Sam! Why didn't I put the bracelet on her when I had the chance? Now she's gone, and probably doesn't want to come back." He yelled, knocking a beer bottle off the table in frustration. 

Sam had already noticed you were back, and tried to interrupt his brother "Dean Y/N is..." But Dean went off on another tangent.

"And how are we supposed to find this Ebony without her help, and who knows what she wants to do with you, and..." 

"Dean!" Both you and Sam shouted at the same time, finally causing him to stop talking. He turned and looked at Sam, his chest heaving, more upset than you had seen him since he had found out you were a Demon.

"What Sam?" He asked, his frustration and anger ebbing away from him, his shoulders slumping.

"Hi Dean." You said timidly, unsure how your return would be taken.

Dean froze, his entire body stiffening in shock before he slowly turned to face you. His eyes travelled your body, before resting on your face. His eyes look haunted, an emotion resembling sadness deepening the green to a dark forest shade. You wondered if your absence affected him more than you thought. 

"Y/N." Your name tore from his lips, before he realized his mistake, and put his mask back in place. But for a moment you had a glimpse of the Dean who used to love you, who you hoped would come to like you again someday.

"Where did you go? I thought you promised no more leaving?" He asked, his voice gruff to hide any leftover emotions.

"I was summoned. I have no control when that happens, but I came back." You said, trying to appease him. 

Sam stepped into the conversation then. "Who summoned you? Was it another crossroads deal?"

Sitting down on the couch you quickly explained about your quick visit with Crowley, while both Sam and Dean stood over you staring down. 

Once you were done with your story, Sam pulled his laptop out, trying to find more information on which townhouse she might be in. 

Dean stayed put, still staring down at you. "Why does Crowley have so much to do with you? I've never seen him this invested in another Demon, or person, for that matter." Dean said with what you thought might have been a hint of jealousy.

"I knew I might have to tell you eventually." You muttered, wondering if this would change their view of you, not that it mattered.  You were already a horrible, evil Demon in their eyes.  

"You can tell us, you know we won't judge." Sam told you, closing the lid on his laptop to give your story his undivided attention.

"You already have." You whispered bitterly, tears that you had promised yourself wouldn't fall, clouded your vision. Keeping your eyes down, you didn't notice the unspoken conversation happen between the brothers. 

You did notice when you heard the scraping of a chair being pulled over, and the weight of someone sitting next to you on the couch. A gentle hand tilted your head up, and you looked into a pair of green eyes. 

Dean was sitting next to you, his knee brushing against yours, as he softly wiped away the errant tear that had spilled over. 

"Sammy and I, we're sorry that we jumped to conclusions, and that we haven't been the nicest since we found out you're a Demon. Now, will you tell us why you're so close with Crowley?" Dean apologized. 

Hearing Dean apologize was something you never thought you would have heard. It wasn't the perfect apology, but it was a start. 

"My family was very wealthy, I grew up having everything I ever wanted, or needed. It wasn't a perfect life, but it was close. Then I met Steven, and he turned my world upside down." You paused, taking a moment to think about how you wanted to continue, noticing Dean's stony expression at the mention of another man. 

"Steven was a stage actor, not quite respectable for a railroad tycoons daughter. I didn't care, he seemed amazing. So I left everything I had known, losing my family."

You stopped again, but Sam, who was sitting in the chair across from you gave you a gentle nod to continue.

"We had a hard life, living in a horrible flat, barely surviving. It was tough on Steven, and he soon grew angry and violent. I realize now that he probably wanted me for my parents fortune, not because he loved me. " Taking a deep breath you continued, staring at Deans callused hand where it laid across his knee. 

"Steven became sick, and I wasn't sure what to do. He became violent one day, and I ran, meeting Crowley. He offered to save Steven which I quickly agreed, hoping that if he was healthy again he would love me again." By this time you had tears in your eyes, this story was something you had tried hard to forget.

"When I returned he was healthy, but done with me. He beat me, badly, then left, taking all of my possessions. That's when Crowley showed up again, offering to take my soul right there, so I didn't have to live a life of prostitution. Back in those days it was near impossible for a woman to survive on her own."

"Such a sweet man." Dean remarked sarcastically, but Sam hushed him. 

"He really was." You defended him. "He took me under his wing, kept me away from the usual torture and evil most Demons have to go through. Then, when he became King, he gave me my job, not expecting me to kill or torture like most."

That was your story, now you just waited for them to laugh it off. You hated even thinking about that time, when you had been so full of hope and love, and it had just been shoved right back into your face. 

Sam was the first to speak. "Well I for one hope that jerk Steven got what was coming to him. I'm sorry you had to go through all that, just because of him."

Dean was still silent, and you were starting to worry.  He seemed deep in thought, and from the looks of it he wasn't happy.

"I'm gonna run and grab us some food." Sam said, standing up and grabbing his blue canvas coat. 

The sound of the door shutting shook Dean out of his thoughts, and he stood up, heading to the fridge to grab a beer. "So love gone wrong huh?" He stated, before taking a sip. 

Nodding, you stayed on the couch, watching his every move. 

"So you and Crowley?" He asked. 

You nodded. "Crowley has always been there for me." You told him. 

"So, you were with him while we were together? You were two timing me?" Dean fumed.


	27. Taken

Unbelievable. You knew Dean had seemed jealous of the relationship you and Crowley shared, but to automatically assume that the two of you were in a relationship, and that you had cheated on him. You were distraught, and more than a little angry that he would believe so little in you.

"Well I am a Demon right?" You sneered sarcastically, but Dean seemed to miss your point, he was so caught up in his own world of hurt and anger.

"Exactly, you're a Demon, he's a Demon, hell you probably were both laughing at me, using our relationship for your entertainment. Is that all I was, entertainment for you and Crowley? See how far you could make me fall, before kicking me when I was down?"

"Dean, I really thought you would have known me better than that. But what I am expecting, you could never look past the fact that I'm a Demon, you couldnt see that just maybe some monsters aren't all bad. That maybe I had no other motive than loving you!" You yelled, your chest heaving from your lack of control of your emotions. Because of Dean, your emotions had been on a roller coaster ride, and you weren't sure how much longer you could take it.

Dean threw his beer bottle against the motel wall in frustration, the shattering glass frightening you. "How the hell am I supposed to know anything about you? You came into our lives, pulling me under your spell, not telling us anything about your life. Then we find out you're a Demon. How was I supposed to handle that? Shrug my shoulders and ignore the fact? The last time one of us trusted a Demon look where it got us. We started the apocalypse. Now here you are, getting all cozy to us, with the threat of Lucifer rising up again. What am I supposed to think?"

You sank back down onto the couch, understanding where he was coming from, grateful the two of you were able to air out some of your problems, but scared that this was too big to work past.

"Dean." You said quietly, the argument wearing you out. Never one for altercations, you always tried to appease people, never had you cared for someone this much to fight back.

Dean had been busy pacing, his anger creating a nervous energy that needed an outlet. His name, softly spoken, stopped him in his tracks, and he looked at you. His eyes were filled with pain, and it broke your heart.

"Dean, come sit. This yelling at each isn't going to solve anything, except make us both storm off, furious at each other." You told him.

He sighed but did as he was told, sitting down at the far end of the couch, leaning back on the cushions. "Now what?" He asked.

"Now we talk." You began. "First of all, Crowley and I have never been together as a couple. Never have been, never will be." 

"But the way you two have acted, the way he cares for you." Dean argued. 

"Like family. He saved me, that's it. I've only loved two people, both who've turned their backs on me." You told him, the last part ending on a sigh.

"Listen, I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions, but what you did was not okay. You should have said something. I'm not sure I will ever be able to get over that fact." Dean stated, reiterating his previous point. You knew how you went about everything was wrong, and you knew you would pay for that forever.

"I know. But I just wanted, no needed, to feel like I could do something good for a change. I hate being a Demon, I hate knowing that I'm automatically labeled evil. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but it was nice being just me." You said, tears filling your eyes.

Dean ran his hands through his hair, the frustration getting to him. "I understand that, I do. I just don't know where to go from here."

"Can we try to be friends? For a start." You asked, your heart in your chest.

Dean stayed frozen for so long, you weren't sure if he had heard you. "Sam's the one who's friends with Demons, not me. I will hunt with you, kill Ebony, that's it. I'm sorry, but that's all I can offer."

Your heart shattered into a million pieces at his words, tears spilling from your eyes. Dean looked at you, his eyes saddened but his face resolved. 

Unable to face being in the same room with Dean any longer, you rushed to the door, blindly reaching for the handle. As you opened the door you heard Dean's voice once again. "I know it's hard, but I just can't. I can't open my heart again."

Shutting the door, you ran through the parking lot, to the street, before slowing to a walk. Tears streaming down your face, you walked, not paying any attention to where your feet were taking you. Past houses, apartments, and buildings, you didn't care. You needed to walk and clear your head. You weren't sure how you could go back, but you knew you would, eventually. This fight against Ebony was too important to let feelings get in the way.

As you walked, you passed by a fast food restaurant, stopping when you noticed a familiar car in the parking lot. Glancing around for Sam, you looked through the huge glass windows of the restaurant. Not seeing the giant man anywhere, you strode over to the Impala, your tears forgotten. 

What you saw turned your blood cold. The drivers side door was cracked open, with food bags spilled on the seat. Looking down, you saw Sam's phone laying on the ground.

"Damn it!" You cussed, knowing Ebony had something to do with this. Grabbing his phone from the ground, you slid the spilled food off of the seat, noticing the keys laying near the gas pedal. Quickly starting the car, you raced it back to the motel, squealing tires as you turned into the parking lot. Jumping out of the car almost before it stopped, you banged on the motel door, your keys laying on the table inside.

Dean opened the door, another beer bottle in his hand. "You're back already?" 

"Shut up Dean, this is important. Sam's gone!" You yelled, pointing to the car behind you. Immediately Dean snapped to attention, his hunter instincts kicking in.

"Tell me everything you know!" He demanded.

You started to tell him, but your story was interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. "Are you going to answer that?" Dean asked you. 

"It's not mine." You answered. 

"Well its not mine." Dean replied, looking around. It was then you realized the ringing was coming from your pocket, and you pulled out Sam's phone.

"Hello?" You answered cautiously. 

"Hi Y/N, I told you we would be hearing from each other again." 

"Ebony." You muttered, causing Dean's spine to stiffen. "Speaker." He mouthed.

Turning it on speaker, you both leaned in, listening carefully. 

"if I had known you hung out with such strong, handsome men, I would have tried to contact you earlier." She purred, and you could hear Sam yelling in the background.


	28. Working Together

"Son of a Bitch!" Dean cussed, once you both realized that Sam was being held hostage by Ebony. That could only mean one thing, she was planning on using Sam in her plan to raise Lucifer. 

"Listen Ebony, you don't know what you're doing. Releasing Lucifer is not a good thing, for humans and Demons alike. As soon as he's done tearing apart the world, he's gonna get rid of the Demons. Let Sam go, and we can forget about all of this." You pleaded, as the sound of your friends tortured cries echoed over the phone.

"I don't believe you. Bringing Lucifer back is the best thing that could happen to us. Then we could get rid of that whiney Crowley, and rule the world." She answered. 

"What are you doing to Sam?" Dean asked, the sounds of his brother being tortured killing him.

Ebony laughed, an evil, bone chilling laugh. "Just keeping ourselves occupied. He has to be alive for Lucifer, doesn't mean we have to keep him safe."

"You bitch!" Dean cussed, but you placed your hand on his arm, trying to calm him down. He was no good to Sam hot headed.

"Thank you." She replied, "I love hearing compliments from that deep, voice."

"You called us, Ebony. What do you want?" You asked, annoyed at the way she was flirting with Dean. Dean might not be your man anymore, but you weren't going to let her flirt with him.

"What did I want? Nothing really. Maybe just to gloat in your face that I won. I have Sam now, so I'm going back to where it all ended, and I'm going to bring Lucifer back, soon. And there's nothing you can do about it." She warned, before hanging up.

"Damn it." Dean yelled, slamming the table with his fist. You stood next to him, biting your lip as you tried to come up with a plan. There was no way you could leave Sam with Ebony, you would do whatever it took to bring him back.

"What if we ask Crowley?" You wondered out loud, but knew Crowley wouldn't help. You liked the Demon, but he was more worried about staying alive and wanted to run things from his throne room, sending out minions to do his dirty work. 

"He won't help Sam." Dean answered, sitting down on a chair, his head in his hands.

You sank down in the chair next to him, at a loss. You weren't sure how to rescue Sam, and you weren't sure how you could console Dean. Dean always thought he was no good without Sam, and even though it wasn't true, you could never get it through his head.

As you sat and watched Dean, a thought slowly rose up, and left you wondering if it was really the best way to go about things. It was worth a shot, you told yourself, before gently touching Dean's shoulder.

"Dean." You said softly, shaking his shoulder until his tear rimmed green eyes stared up at you. Without saying a word he stared at you, looking to you for help.

"I'm a Demon." You started, "So maybe I can transport in, blend in with her minions, get close to Sam, and transport him out of there." You told him, becoming more resolved with the plan the longer you thought about it. 

Dean was still silent, his gaze in his lap, and you weren't sure if he had even understood you, or if he was so lost in his grief. You started to tell him again when his hand grasped your knee. Shocked at the sudden contact, you waited to see what would happen next. 

"No."

That was all he said, and that one word surprised you. "Why not? It's the best plan we have, and I would die to see Sam safe." You argued, knowing it was true. If you died saving Sam, at least you died doing something good. It would be a good way to go out. 

"No, I won't let you." Dean told you again, his gaze traveling up to yours, the tears gone and a steady resolve filling his face instead. 

"Why not?" You asked curiously. 

"Because you would probably just get caught, and then she would have you and Sam, and I can't lose both of you." He told you, the words at the end so quiet you almost couldn't hear them.

"But it's all I can think of! Please let me try!" You begged, but Dean was adamant, shaking his head no.

"I can't. I know I said some nasty things earlier. But losing Sam made me realize I can't lose you either. I don't know exactly what that means, but all I know is I want you to stay in my life. And that's why I won't let you do that suicide mission. We will find another way."

You couldn't believe the words that came out of Dean's mouth. The fact that he still cared, and wanted you around was a beacon of light in this dark time, and it warmed your heart.

"Okay, but if we can't find another way, you will let me do it my way. Promise?" You said, your tone booking no argument. 

Dean agreed, and the two of you sat there in silence, each of your brains working hard on finding some other way to rescue Sam.

"Wait, didn't she say she was going back to where it all ended? What did she mean by that?" You asked, confused. 

Dean thought for a moment, before shooting out of his chair, and grabbing your shoulders, pulled you up with him. "You're a genius!" He exclaimed, before sealing his lips over yours. At first you were frozen, the feel of his lips on yours was amazing, something you thought you wouldn't have felt again. Then you let yourself melt into his embrace, but as soon as you did, he pulled back, holding you at arms length.

"Sorry, got carried away." He muttered. "It's just I know where she will be. We sent Lucifer back to his cage at Stull Cemetery."

"So she's going to bring him back there." You finished his thought.  
"And if we can get there before she does, maybe we can stop it!"

"You pack, I'm going to see if I can get Cas down here to help us." Dean told you, and the both of you went to work, hope bringing a spring to your step.


	29. Stull Cemetery

Within the hour, you had everything packed and into the Impala, while Dean was busy praying to Cas, but so far his prayers had gone unaswered. 

"Weird, he has his mojo back, so it's not like him to ignore me like that." Dean muttered, hurt that his best friend was ignoring him.

"Maybe it's because I'm here. He doesn't like me." You said softly, feeling guilty that your extra support might not come because of you.

Dean glanced at you, a sad look on his face. "I'm sure that's not the reason. He's probably just busy."

Before you could answer, a deep, gruff voice spoke from behind Dean. "Actually, that is the reason Dean. I don't like her, and I don't trust her. She's a Demon." Cas said, holding his Angel blade out in front of him, ready to run it through your heart at any moment.

Dean turned to face Cas, a bewildred look upon his face. "Woah dude, calm down. She's here to help."

Cas took a step forward, the Angel blade still in his hand. "No I will not calm down. She's a Demon, she will probably turn on us as soon as she can."

"This is ridiculous, standing around arguing about me while Sam is being held hostage and Ebony is about ready to raise Lucifer. How can I make you trust me enough to work together? " You asked, frustrated. 

"Here, I have this." Dean said, and both yours and Castiel's attention turned to Dean. He was holding the bracelet in his hand. "This will subdue all of her powers, turning her almost human. If she wears this, will you trust her enough to work with her?"

"Can she take it off?" Cas asked, tucking his angel blade back.

"No, only the one who put it on can take it off." Dean told him, and you stepped forward, holding your arm out to Dean.

"I'm sorry, if it was up to me, I wouldn't." Dean apologized, sliding the bracelet onto your arm. Immediately you felt the affect it had on you, your power disappearing, your body growing weaker. You stumbled, the bracelet making you dizzy, and Dean caught you, supporting you with his arm around your shoulders. 

"Y/N, are you alright?" He asked, guiding you to the edge of the bed. 

Even with his support, you almost didn't make it, your dizziness effecting your movement. "I don't like this, I'm going to take it off." Dean stated, moving his hand to your wrist, but you stopped him.

"Dean it's for the best. This way we can all work together to save Sam. It's okay. " You reassured him.

He shook his head, displeased with what was going, but knowing there was no way to stop it.

"Now what?" You asked, trying to turn the attention from you to something more important. 

"Now we head to Stull Cemetery, and try to stop another apocalypse from happening and save my brother." Dean said, and you followed him out the door.

Cas walked with you, but refused to climb in. "I'm going to zap over there, see if anything has started yet. I will get back to you." Cas said, before transporting.

Dean started the Impala, and the two of you stayed silent as the car drove down the road, heading towards Lawrence Kansas.

"Cas is gone, do you want me to take the bracelet off of you?" Dean inquired,  glancing out of the corner of his eye towards you. 

Glancing down at the bracelet, you realized that you had become somewhat used to the lack of your powers, and the weakness that went with it. "No, leave it on. He might come back any minute."

"Listen, I'm sorry about his attitude back there. But he's my friend, and I guess he's trying to look out for me. Don't take it personal."

"I understand. Ever since I became a Demon I'm used to people giving me nasty looks, calling me names. Just because I am a Demon, never even getting the chance to know me. It hurts, but I've tried to get used to it."

Dean took his hand off of the steering wheel, and placed it on your knee. "And I haven't been the nicest to you either. I understand why you did what you did, and I'm sorry that I let my hot headedness get in the way. I just hope that maybe after this is all said and done, we can try to fix things.

"Even though I'm a Demon?" You had to ask, because the hope that this was truly happening was almost too much to bare.

He sighed. "Even though you're a Demon. But you're nothing like the Demons I've known, and I know you at least deserve to be given at chance." 

"Thank you Dean, that means a lot." You replied quietly, your heart almost bursting at the thought of Dean giving you another chance.

Before the two of you could say anything else, Cas appeared in the back seat, scaring you. Your squeal of fright was enough to unsettle Dean, who swerved into the other lane before gaining control of the car once again.

"Damn it Cas!" Dean cussed, but Cas ignored him.

"She's there, along with four or five other Demons. Sam is beaten and bloody on the ground, unresponsive." Cas informed the both of you.

"How far out are we?" You asked, dread settling in your stomach at thought of what was to come, and what Sam had already been through.

"About 15 minutes. Not too much farther." Dean replied, his voice growing quiet at the end, worry for his brother evident in the stiff set of his shoulders, the way his knuckles were tight from grasping the steering wheel.

"Don't worry Dean, we will save him." You promised, knowing you would do anything to save Sam.

Dean just nodded his head, pressing down on the pedal.

"What so you want me to do?" Cas asked.

"Why don't you go back and stay hidden, wait for our signal." You suggested, and Cas looked to Dean for confirmation. When Dean nodded, Cas disappeared. 

"So when we get there, what's our plan?" You asked.

"We stop her, anyway, anyhow." Dean said simply. 

Knowing it was the only answer you would get, you watched as the iron gate loomed into view, and you had a feeling this was not going to end well.


	30. Battle

The antique iron gates were open, and Dean drove straight on through, down the pitted dirt road, straight to where a group had gathered.

"Last time I drove this, I was so nervous, I was rocking some classic rock. acting tougher than I felt. I had to see my brother one last time." Dean stated, his eyes locked into the view in front of him.

You grasped his hand in yours, giving a gentle squeeze to comfort him, relieved when he didn't yank it out of your grasp.

The cemetery was old, with a mixture of marble and wooden headstones, the grass overgrown. In the center stood at least ten people, with Sam laying on the ground, his hands tied behind him. As the Impala grew closer you noticed how bloody and beaten his entire body was, and you couldn't wait to go after Ebony, to make her pay for what she did.

Dean stopped the Impala, looking at you sadly before climbing out. You slid out, walking forward until you stood at the hood of Baby.

A voluptuous woman walked to the front of the group, her dark hair swinging almost to her butt, her skin golden. "Well, I wasn't sure you were going to make it." She purred, her voice sensual, and smooth like honey.

"Ebony please. Just let Sam go." You pleaded, but you knew it was useless.

She just laughed, before having one of her henchmen pull an unconscious Sam to his feet. "Sam here is Lucifer's perfect vessel. I will never let him go, we need him." 

"How do you even plan on bringing him back? Last time 66 seals had to be broken, and I haven't noticed any of that going around." Dean argued.

She huffed, annoyed with how the conversation was going. "How stupid are you to think that I brought all of this out here, if I didn't even have a plan! Lilith was wrong, she was always a weak, pathetic follower. There is another way."

You had always heard about this other way, but never exactly what it was. During the apocalypse, many had whispered of it, wondering if it would have been much easier than the seals. You had always considered it a myth, something to keep someone's mind occupied.

"I thought that was just a myth." You retorted, earning a disappointed stare from Ebony. 

"Sweetie, I always knew you were a naive, sheltered Demon, but really? Just a myth? You know that each myth always has a section of truth to it." She answered, just as you noticed that Sam was slowly coming around.

It was then Dean pulled the Demon killing knife out of his back pocket, holding it in front of him. "I guess we just need to make sure that it stays a myth." He told her, and you saw Cas stepping out of the shadows.

Ebony nodded her head to her henchmen, and you knew the battle was beginning. The two watching Sam dropped him to the ground, where he laid groaning. You pulled out your own Demon killing knife, and together you and Dean strode forward. Cas came from the side, his Angel Blade out and ready for use. 

You quickly lost track of Sam and Cas, with two Demons fighting you, it took all your strength to keep up. The bracelet had zapped your powers, and now you were relying on your strength and skills, which weren't much. You were able to stab one, but the other one quickly overtook you, and you felt the knife drop from your hands as he wrenched your arms behind you.

Being held hostage, all you could do was watch the battle unfold in front of you. Dean was busy battling two Demons of his own, while Cas was using his powers to smite the Demons, already killing three. Sam had risen to his feet, and was making his way towards you, a knife in his hands as he tried to cut free of the rope. 

Tilting your head forward, you swung it backwards with all your might, hearing the Demons nose break under the pressure. "Son of a Bitch!" He yelled, but your plan worked because he released you. Scrambling forward, you reached Sam, your blade long forgotten on the ground. Taking his knife from his hands, you finished the job of cutting the rope, and Sam rubbed his hands trying to rub away the numbness.

"Sam, I'm so sorry." You muttered, feeling guilty that he had been captured. He just shook his head, and the two of you looked towards the battle. Cas was still battling two Demons, but it look like he might have the upper hand soon. Dean had just finished off his last one, and was looking towards Ebony, who stood five feet away from him.

"I will go get more Demons to follow me. This is far from over!" She yelled, getting ready to transport. But Dean was ready, and he pulled a gun from his belt, shooting her in the chest. "You puny human, bullets won't harm me." 

Dean just laughed. "True, but you're not going anywhere. There's a Devils Trap carved into that bullet." Dean taunted her.

She screamed, frustrated with how everything had gone your way. Looking down, she picked up a knife that was laying on the ground next to her, your forgotten Demon killing knife. "This will do quite nicely." She said, before throwing it straight for Dean.

"No!" You screamed, running for Dean as fast as you could. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. You ran towards Dean, your powers gone, but you were still faster than a normal human being. Diving at the last second, trying to save him, you felt something slam into your chest, knocking you backwards into Dean.

Dean broke your fall, and you laid on him, staring down at your chest in shock. Embedded in your breast was your own knife, and you felt yourself start to fade, your vision turning orange as your body started to flash. 

By this time, Dean had propped you up, and was holding you in his lap. "Y/N, you silly girl, why would you jump in front of me." He said, before he noticed the state you were in, and the knife sticking out of your body. "Oh shit Y/N, hold still." He told you, pulling the knife out. But it was too late, you knew you were done for. Without your powers, you wouldn't be able to heal, and you were okay with dying. You had protected the people you loved, and that was all that mattered.

"It's Okay." You said weakly. "I saved you. I stopped Ebony. At least this way I'm going out doing something good."

Dean stared down at you, tears falling from his eyes. "You are good, you always have been. I just wish I hadn't been so stubborn to see how much of an amazing person you are, Demon or not."

You smiled up at Dean, your body numb, as the flashing orange faded, and the last thing you hear was Dean crying, "I love you."


	31. Bus Ride

The light was blinding, and for a moment all you could see were the dots swimming in your eyes. You tried covering them, but your vision was still blurred in the dark. 

"Ma'am, are you okay?" A male voice asked, and you could sense just a hint of authority in his voice.

You removed your hand from your eyes, and you glanced around, finally adjusting to the brightness of the sun, and looked at the man attempting to help you. He was wearing a dark blue uniform, with a badge on his chest. He had a slight dusting of scuff on his chin, his eyes were almost gray in color, and he was tall, at least taller than you.

"Ma'am?" He repeated, because you still hadn't answered him. You looked around, the city sidewalk busy around you, with high skyscrapers slowly blocking out the sun that had moments ago blinded you.

"Where am I?" You whispered, having no recollection of what you were doing on that street. The more you thought about it, you had no recollection of who you were, or anything else about you.

"You're in Denver Ma'am. Is there somebody I can call to help you?" He asked, pulling a phone out of his pocket.

You thought hard, trying to come up with anything at all that might help you remember, but you couldn't. Your mind was a blank slate, wiped clean. "No." You whispered, scared of what that meant for you.

He sighed, before putting his phone away. "Why don't you come with me, I can drop you at the hospital." 

You recoiled from him, knowing you didn't want to go to a hospital, but having no idea why. He reached for you, and you did the first thing that came to mind. You ran, pushing through the crowd that was as thick as glue on the sidewalk, your feet pounding the pavement as you ran away from the cop who was just trying to help you. Not paying any attention to where you were going, you just moved, past shouting people, past honking cars. It didn't matter matter where, as long as it wasn't here. 

Your heart pounding fast, you finally slowed, your hands on your knees. After you had caught your breath, you took stock of your surroundings, noticing a bus stop across the street. An urging to keep moving had you digging through your pockets, hoping whoever you were would have some cash on you.

You were in luck, there were a couple of crumpled twenties in your front pocket, along with an antique silver bracelet. You had a sudden aversion to the bracelet, wanting to keep it, but not wanting it on your body at all. Shoving it in your pocket, you crossed the street, looking up at the schedule. There were buses to California, Montana, anywhere you wanted to go. But one destination stood out like a sore thumb, and you knew you had to travel there. You might not know who you were, or anything, but you knew where your next step had to be.

Stepping into line, you quick purchased a ticket, grateful that your bus was leaving in fifteen minutes. It was already letting passengers load, and you climbed on, settling towards the back of the bus. Before long you heard the bus driver yelling last call before shutting the doors. It was fairly empty, an older couple up front, a young man sitting in the very last seat, and a couple of teenage girls giggling in the middle.

"One way ride to Lebanon Kansas." The bus driver exclaimed, before pulling out onto the street. The dusk was settling, and you were in awe at the beautiful orange and blue sunset that was setting above the mountains. Turning east, the sunset was now at your back, and you watched as the city slowly faded away, turning into farms, then fields of corn, as far as you could see before the sky darkened enough that you couldn't see past the window. 

As the bus rolled along the highway, you closed your eyes, urging yourself to remember something, anything that would help you figure out who you were, and what you had been doing in Denver. What you saw confused you, and you were sure it had to be from a movie or a tv show, or even a weird dream. Because there was no way you had been alive in the 1800s. 

You finally fell asleep, the rocking of the train lulling you into a sense of comfort and security. Your sleep was broken by dreams, fragments of something you couldn't quite understand. Visions of an evil, dark place, a man with a British accent, filled your dreams. It was terrifying, and you woke, your body shivering as you tried to calm yourself down, knowing you wouldn't be able to sleep any more on the ride.

An hour later, the bus pulled into Lebanon and you climbed off, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs. It was still pitch black outside, the only light coming from the streetlights bathing the empty street. Not knowing what else to do, you walked, taking in the sights, hoping something would look familiar. 

After an hour, your feet were sore, as was your brain. Nothing was ringing a bell, and you were tired and hungry, but you didn't have enough money for a hotel room. In front of you was a bar, the open sign still flashing. With no where else to go, you pushed open the double doors, surprised at how busy the bar was at this time of night.

The bar itself was full, as were the tables lining the side of the dance floor. The dance floor was the only thing empty, most patrons were either drinking, or playing pool at the back of the bar.

Taking quick stock of your money, you decided to splurge on a beer and a hamburger, even though you knew it would have been better to save your money. Sitting down at the bar, the bar tender came over, a handsome young man.

"And what can I do for you pretty lady?" He asked, leaning over the bar, his light blue eyes lighting up with interest. 

"A hamburger and a beer please." You responded. 

"Sure thing sweetheart." He answered, and as you waited for your food, you watched the other patrons, wanting to take your mind off of your problems.

There was a heated game of pool at the back, a group of college aged men laughing and kidding each other as they racked the balls. The bar was filled with mainly men, each tuned into their drink, probably trying to relax after a long day at work. One man in particular caught your attention. He was at the end of the bar, bathed in shadows, a glass of whiskey sitting in front of him, his head in his hands.

It was then the bar tender came back with your drink and food. Thanking him, you had to ask. "Who's that man at the end? He seems awfully sad."

The bar tender looked down to where you were pointing. "Him? He's been in here every night for almost a month. Doesn't talk, but keeps a steady supply of whiskey in front of him."

Feeling inexplicably drawn to the man, you took what was left of your money, knowing it was a bad idea, but you did it anyways. Giving it to the bar tender, you asked him to buy the man a beer, hoping to steer him away from the hard liquor.

"What kind?" The bar tender asked, and you looked at the selection in front of you. Picking a unique one, you watched as the bar tender delivered it, but nerves had you turning your head down, facing your food.

Here you were, no idea who you were, and you were hitting on strange men at the bar. Chastising yourself, you took a big bite of burger just as a hand touched your shoulder, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"Excuse me miss, are you the one who bought the beer for me? How did you know it was my favorite type?" A deep voice, like whiskey being poured, said from behind you. Looking up, you came into contact with the most gorgeous pair of green eyes you had ever seen, a pair that widened when they took in your appearance. 

"Y/N?" He exclaimed, a lock of shock crossing his face, as you raised your eyebrow in confusion, wonder who this Y/N was.


	32. Can It Be

The man paused, staring at you, waiting for you to answer, or at least for you to recognize him. His green eyes seemed familiar, but no matter how hard you pushed yourself, you didn't know this handsome man standing in front of you. 

"I'm sorry, but do I know you? And why did you call me Y/N?" You questioned him, your body stiff, ready to run from him just as you ran from the cop. 

"It's me, Dean. You don't remember me at all?" He asked, and you could sense the disappointment hidden in his voice.

Wanting tl trust him, you willed your body to relax. "I'm sorry, but I don't even know who I am, or where I should be." You muttered, turning your head away in shame. 

Dean took his callused hand, gently placing it on your chin, and turning your face so your eyes were facing his. It was the move of a man comfortable with touching you, not of a stranger, and it shook you to the core.

"Let me help you." He said softly, so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You wanted to, you really did, but you were still so shocked and confused that you had a hard time knowing what to do. "Listen, I don't know you. Maybe I did, at one time. But right now I think I need to figure things out myself."

Dean dropped his hand, taking a step back from you, and you immediately felt the separation, wanting, with a need you couldn't understand, to step closer, into his arms. The safety of his arms was calling you, telling you you could find solace in them. But a nagging voice in your head was telling you to run, to trust no one.

"Listen Y/N, you and I go way back. Come with me, and I will find a way to help you remember." He explained, his hands up in a gesture of trust.

You glanced around you, your food forgotten, as you cased the joint. No one was paying attention to the two of you, and Dean was standing just right of the door. If you ran, you could probably make it. Standing up, you took a step towards Dean, noticing he stayed still. Placing a hand on his firm chest, you lean in to his ear. "Thanks, but no thanks." You whispered, before pushing past him, hurrying to the door, not running yet.

As soon as you pushed the door open, you ran as fast as you could, past a shiny black car, and down the street. You could hear that Dean guy yelling from behind you, but you couldn't stop now. You knew you were being foolish, that you were probably running from the best chance to help you. But it scared you, your feelings for a man you couldn't even remember. You couldn't name those feelings, but just looking into those green eyes filled with compassion, and something like disbelief brought longing to your heart.

Your feet pounding the pavement, you ran away from town, down a two lane road, the lights growing dimmer until there were none at all. It was then you slowed to a walk, your lungs burning, and your legs shaky.

You had no idea what to do now. You could keep on going, leaving the town you felt connected to. You could turn around, find some place to sleep for the night, get a job in the morning until you figured out your next step. Or you could turn around and find the man who seemed to know you. He even called you by a name, Y/N. It was a pretty name, and it seemed to fit you, but even that thought scared you. The fact that a stranger knew more about you then you did.

Knowing the third route was the best option, you tried to guide your stubborn heart to it. But your brain and your heart weren't seeing eye to eye at the moment, and you soon found your footsteps heading away from town once again.

As you trudged along, you looked up at the sky, still dark in the early morning, the stars hidden. It was then you heard the crack of thunder, and the first raindrop splashed coldly on your nose.

"Great." You muttered to yourself, as one rain drop became many, and soon you were drenched, and shivering. Looking for shelter, you heard the rumble of an engine before you saw the bright lights of a car behind you. Standing on the side of the road, you waited for it to pass, but as it came closer it slowed, before coming to a complete stop beside you.

It was a nice car, a vintage black car that shined in the lightning strike overheard. "Y/N!" You heard Dean yell before you saw him, he was climbing out of the drivers seat, oblivious to the rain pouring down. Rushing over, he stood in front of you. "Why did you take off? I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Because you scared me!" You yell over the fury of the storm. "You seem to know who I am, and that terrifies me."

A bolt of lightning struck the ground not far from you, and the both of you jumped at the loud crack that immediately followed. 

"Please get in the car. We can talk, and if you're still afraid, then I will drop you off somewhere safe." Dean begged. Between his puppy dog eyes, and the storm scaring you, you gave in, wanting to get warm and dry. 

"Do you promise?" You asked, shivering. 

Dean shrugged his coat off, gently placing it on your shoulders, before nodding. "I promise." He said, holding out his hand.

Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand in his, the touch sending a shock through your entire system. He guided you to the passenger door, where you slid in, watching him as he rounded the hood and slid in beside you. 

Putting the car in gear, he drove straight, instead of turning around. "Where are you going?" You asked, uncertainty causing you to shift closer to the door, your hand on the handle.

"To my home. The bunker. Seems like you were heading straight for it."


	33. Questions

The drive to the bunker was short and silent, neither of you knowing exactly what to say. You stayed as close to the door as possible, shivering from being wet. Dean would occasionally glance over at you, his eyes unreadable in the darkened sky. The storm raged on, rain pouring down from the sky, while thunder still crackled overheard. 

Ten minutes later, Dean slowed his car down, slowly driving past a huge hill with a metal wall built into it. Once past it, he turned off onto a dirt road that then opened up into a tunnel. You watched fascinated, and a little freaked out, as the car went further and further in, before two big doors opened, and Dean pulled into what had to be a garage. 

The garage was huge, with room for at least 10 cars, some of the spots already full. "What is this place?" You asked, the first words you had said since climbing into the car.

"None of this rings a bell?" Dean replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. You shook your head. It was cool, and you couldn't wait to explore, but as of right now, you couldn't remember anything about this place.

Once the car was shut off, Dean came to your side and helped you out of the car, but you tensed when he placed his hand on you. "I'm sorry." You muttered, "It's just, everything is so new and stressful, and I know you're trying to be helpful, but it's still scary."

Dean smiled, a soft smile that didn't make it up to his eyes, he just lifted one side of his mouth. "I understand. Let's go find you some dry clothes."

Agreeing, you followed him down a tiled hallway, past multiple closed doors, before he finally stopped in front of one. You hadn't been paying attention, so you accidentally ran into his back. Blushing, you took a step back, but Dean just ignored it.

Opening the door, Dean stood aside to let you in first. Cautiously, you stepped inside, glancing around the nondescript room. There was a full sized bed in the middle, with a nightstand on either side. A small couch and a dresser made up the rest of the furniture.  A door on the far side led to what you assumed was a bathroom. 

Dean had followed you in, and he was opening up drawers, pulling out clothes and tossing them on the bed. "Here's some clothes for you to change into, the bathrooms through that door. Why don't you take a shower and warm up?" He suggested. 

"Are you sure the owner of these clothes won't mind me borrowing them?" You asked, grabbing a pair of jeans that surprisingly seemed to be in your side.

"Princess, you are the owner of those clothes. I know you don't believe me, but hopefully we can help with that."

"Dean, who are you talking to? It's 4:30 in the morning." A sleepy voice asked from the door, and you looked over to see a very tall man leaning against the door frame, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

Seeing another man in this place, so far from civilization, was a little terrifying. You had come with Dean because you couldn't think of another way, but two men might be too much to handle on top of trying to regain your memories. You shrunk back, towards the bathroom door, hoping the giant man wouldn't notice you, or be mad that Dean had brought you here. For all you knew these could have been his girlfriend's clothes. You didn't believe Dean that these were yours.

"Sam, I have good news, and bad news." Dean started.

"isn't it too early for this?" Sam muttered. "How much have you had to drink?" He asked, never glancing farther into the room where you stood quiet as a statue. 

"Sam, I found Y/N." Dean told him.

"What?" Sam asked, and that's when he finally looked away from Dean and noticed you cowering in the back of the room, mostly hidden by shadows. Sam took a step towards you, and you took a step back, not wanting to face that man yet.

"What's the bad news?" Sam asked, once he had noticed how you had shied away from him.

"She remembers nothing. Not who she is, what she is, and who we are. Zip, nada, nothing." Dean explained,  and you thought it was weird. What did he meant by what you were, you thought to yourself.

Dean turned to face you. "Why don't you hop in that shower? Sam and I are going to the library to talk." 

You nodded, but stayed still until the door was shut and you were by yourself. Walking into the bathroom, you placed the clothes on the counter before turning to the mirror. It was sad when you couldn't even recognize the person staring back at you. Turning away, you pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor, your jeans soon following. Taking your bra off, you noticed a thin white scar just above your breast. Tracing the rigid line, you wondered what kind of life you had led before, and if you were a good person. It felt like you were a good person, but that didn't mean anything. Turning the shower on, you climbed under the warm spray, your shivers finally stopping. 

When the water finally started to cool down, you shut it off, grabbing one of the fluffy towels that were hanging up. Quick you dried, before pulling on the borrowed clothes, amazed at how well they fit, still determined they weren't yours. 

Stepping back into your room, you noticed Dean hadn't returned for you yet. Not wanting to be alone any longer, you made the hasty decision to try and find the library on your own. Opening the door, you glanced around for Dean, or his tall friend Sam. Seeing neither, you took a deep breath and turned left, wandering the hall. You let your feet guide you, and soon you found yourself climbing stairs, male voices echoing off the walls. They stopped when they noticed you standing nervously in the doorway.

"Princess, come on over." Dean told you, pulling out a chair. The room was huge, filled to the ceiling with rows of books. There were wooden tables in the middle, and that's where Dean and Sam were sitting. You slowly made your way over, before sliding down into the chair.

"This is my brother Sam. He's really smart, and he wants to help you too." Dean told you, and you looked at Sam deeply for the first time. He had longer, brown hair, that he would tuck behind his ears. His eyes were a shiny, gentle hazel. His was a face you could trust, a face that said he was there to help. 

"Can you tell me the last thing you remember." He asked.

"I remember standing on the sidewalk in Denver,  a cop asking me if I needed help. That was a couple of days ago." You answered, and watched as the two men seemed to have a silent conversation between them.

"So nothing before that? Not even tiny glimpses, or dreams while you slept?" Sam continued his questioning. 

"You're going to think I'm crazy." You mumbled. 

Dean placed his hand on top of yours, the gesture meant to soothe and comfort, and this time you didn't jump from the contact. "Never, but if you want us to help you, you need to tell us everything."

"Well, when I was on the bus, I had a flashback. But it couldn't be true, because if it was, I would have been alive in the 1800s. I was dressed in one of those old fashioned dresses, and there were carriages."

"Anything else?" Sam urged, as if you hadn't just said you had been alive over a hundred years ago.

"Well, when I fell asleep, I dreamed of a dark place, that seemed so evil. And of a man. I didn't see his face, but I heard his voice, and it was British."

Sam and Dean stared at each other, and you sunk back in your seat, afraid that you may have angered them.

"I know what we need to do. We need to summon Crowley." Dean said, but by the looks of his face he wasn't happy about it, and you turned your hand so your fingers were interlaced together, squeezing his hand to comfort him


	34. Hello Darling

Dean seemed surprised that you had turned your hand and wound your fingers through his, but instead of saying anything, he just closed his tight, making sure you couldn't change your mind and let go.

"So, who's this Crowley? " You wondered outloud. Dean's hand tensed a little over yours, but he didn't say anything. Sam was the one to answer you.

"Crowley is an acquaintance of ours, and he knew you well. He has certain abilities to help." He explained, and you could tell he was treading carefully around the words.

Wanting your memory back, you made a quick decision you would do anything, because this man holding your hand seemed to have a huge part in your past. And as he gently traced patterns on the top of your hand, you wanted to know exactly what his role in your past was.

"So, call him. Let's get this over with." You told Sam, earning a chuckle from both men. "What you asked incredulously. 

"Crowley doesn't always use a phone." Dean explained, before pulling his hand from yours, and you wanted to pull it back, already missing the contact between the two of you. "Why don't you go with Sam to the kitchen. He will fix you up some grub, while I try getting ahold of Crowley."

You watched Dean's retreating back until it disappeared down the hall, before turning to his brother. Just then your stomach rumbled, making both of you laugh. "I take it you're hungry." Sam chuckled.

"Yeah I ordered a hamburger at the bar, but took off before I could eat it." You explained, following Sam down another hall, walking into an old fashioned industrial kitchen.

"This whole place is so cool." You exclaimed, looking around.

"It's the men of letters bunker. They were a type of scholars, but they were disbanded in the 50s. We're legacies." Sam explained as he pulled sandwich items from the fridge. Sitting at the table you watched him as he made each of you a sandwich. 

"Hey Sam?" You started. He looked up to show he was listening, but didn't make a move to answer. "Did you really know me?"

Setting your food down in front of you, he slid into the seat across from you before answering. "Yeah we did." He said, not explaining any farther.

You both sat there quietly munching on your sandwich before you spoke up again. "And Dean, were we?" You started, not knowing exactly what you wanted to ask.

Sam gave you a soft smile.  "It's not my story to tell. I'm just glad he found you, and hopefully everything will work out." Sam said mysteriously. 

"What happened to your face?" You asked, really noticing his fading bruises and cuts that covered his handsome face for the first time.

Standing up, he took both of your plates and placed them in the sink, before turning to face you, leaning against it. "It's a long story, part of the other one. But I was kidnapped, and there was a fight." Sam explained, before Dean came into the room. 

"He actually answered his phone." Dean exclaimed, before making his own sandwich and tearing into it. "He said he'd be here soon." Dean finished, his mouth full of food.

Deciding to wait for him in the library, you followed the two men back, before they sat down at the table. Too revved up to sit still, you wandered, examining the rows of books, trailing your fingers along the spines, the smell of bound paper and ink comforting you. Next to a lounge chair was a book placed on an end table, a book mark sticking out showing it was in the process of being read. Picking it up, you remembered that it was your favorite book.

"I don't know how many times you've read that book, but you would always pick it up when you've had a bad day." Dean said softly from beside you. 

Holding the book tightly to your chest, you gave him a smile. "I actually remember this book." You said.

"That's great!" Dean exclaimed. "Maybe more of your memories will return soon." 

You wished they would return quickly, because the man in front of you was glancing down at you, his green eyes darkening in what you thought might be lust, but you weren't sure.

"Dean, what were we?" You asked quietly, disappointed when your question caused him to look away from you.

"Our relationship was complicated. It seemed to be getting better again before..." He started, before trailing off.

You wanted to ask before what, but you weren't sure you would get an answer from him either. He went to head back to the table, when you placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Dean, was I a good person? I just saw those glimpses, and they frighten me."

Dean grabbed your chin, making sure you were looking at him. "You were a very good person, better than me. Don't let your memories, or doubts let you forget that." He said emphatically. 

Before you could answer him, the voice from your dreams sounded from the stairs. "Hello Moose, where's squirrel?"

Dean placed your hand in his, before stepping out from behind the bookcase, striding over to where Sam was sitting, creating what you considered a united front against the visitor.

Dean kept you hidden behind him, out of the view of the man who must be Crowley. 

"Ah, there he is. What are you hiding from me?" He asked, coming to stand at the front of the table. You weren't able to see him yet, because of Dean's wide shoulders.

"Hey Crowley. We were wondering if you had any idea about this?" Dean asked, before moving to the side so you could see, and be seen.

You both stared at each other in shock. The man in front of you was exactly what you remembered in your dreams. His dark hair and eyes, the little bit of scruff on his chin, the black tailored suit. 

"Y/N?" He finally asks. "What are you... you were..." He stumbles across the words.

"How do I know you?" You ask, which confuses the man, and he looks at Sam and Dean for help.

"Why don't you sit." Sam offered, and everyone took a place around the table, you sitting next to Dean. 

Crowley was busy studying you, his eyebrows drawn in confusion. 

"Did you bring her back?" Dean asked, and you were confused. Brought you back? From what? 

"No." Crowley croaked. "Whoever did, changed things up up a little bit." 

"What do you mean?" Sam and Dean both asked at the same time. 

"Well that's Y/N, there's no doubt about it. But she's different. She's no longer a Demon."


	35. The Truth

"She's not a Demon." Crowley stated again, while all three of you stared at him, your mouths open in shock.

You were the one to break the silence with a laugh. "Well of course not. Demons don't exist."

It was your turn to be stared at, all three men giving you weird looks. "What?" You asked uncomfortably.

"Y/N." Dean started, "There's a lot of things you used to know, that most people don't. One of them is that Demons really do exist."

You shook your head, thinking they were trying to tease you. "Very funny. Now that you've tried to see how gullible I am, can you please tell me the truth."

"We are telling the truth. You were a Demon, and I'm the King of Hell." Crowley stated, but you just laughed again.

"Prove it." You challenged, wondering what sort of crazy you had gotten yourself into. You could see the wheels turning in each man's head, each thinking of the best way to handle this. Crowley faced you, his deep chocolate eyes staring into yours, before suddenly turning red. Gasping in shock, you jumped out of your chair, before using Dean as a shield against whatever Crowley was.

"Parlor trick." You said, trying to convince yourself that whatever you had just seen wasn't real, that somehow they were playing a really mean trick on you.

"Come on darling. You know you want to believe again." Crowley told you, before sending you flying against the wall, slowing you down before you slam into it. Pressed against the marble slab, you try moving away, but your entire body was frozen, as if held there by an invisible entity. 

"Crowley!" Both men yelled, jumping to their feet. Dean ran over to help you, while Sam stood in the middle, unsure what to do. Crowley shrugged his shoulders before waving his hand, and the pressure holding you still disappeared, and you were suddenly free, falling down, straight into Dean's arms.

Blushing, you looked up into his green eyes, his arms tightening around your waist. "Are you okay?" He asked, before gently lowering you the rest of the way to the ground before letting go. You nodded, unable to form the words to speak, the whisper of Dean's arms still around you, fleeting before you felt cold, and alone, once again.

"It was the best way to make her believe." Crowley explained, still in his seat at the table. He waved over the table, telling all of you to sit once again. The three of you complied, you staying close to Dean, not trusting Crowley as far as you could throw him.

"Now what?" Sam asked, settling back into his chair at the head of the table.

"Do you believe me now?" Crowley asked you. 

"I guess. Unless you're a really good magician." You stated, still not sure what had just happened.

"Her believing you isn't the important thing right now." Dean told Crowley, and you could tell he was annoyed with the man. "What's important is getting her memories back."

Crowley face you, his clasped hands against his chin as he thought. Everyone stayed silent, waiting for the answer. "Are you sure you want your memories back? A normal human brain might not be able to handle all of your memories. Maybe that's why you were brought back without them."

"I'm sure. It feels too weird, not even knowing who I am." You replied, knowing you would have to try.

"Speaking of that Crowley, why did you bring her back without her memories?" Sam asked, and you were surprised that question hadn't been brought up before. You must have some sort of history with this man in front of you for him to bring you back. And bring you back from what?

"I didn't bring her back." Crowley said, not bothering to explain any further.

"Wait, brought me back from what?" You finally asked, and you felt Dean stiffen up next to you.

"Can we please concentrate on one thing at a time?" He pleaded with you.

"No, I really think I want to know." You told him, even though you could already tell you wouldn't like the answer. But just maybe, that answer would make you a step closer to figuring everything out.

Dean sighed, before leaning forward, his head in his hands. "You died." He said, so quietly you weren't sure you heard him correctly.

You leaned forward, placing your hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles underneath the flannel shirt tense up. "What did you say?"

He looked up, his eyes full of guilt and despair. "You died! You died saving my life!" He roared loudly, standing up and striding over to where the whiskey was held, pouring a generous amount into a crystal glass.

Your mouth suddenly dry, all you could do was sit there in disbelief. You had died, somehow, giving your life up for this man. A man you couldn't remember, but must have meant enough to you, if you would die for him.

"I died." You said softly, a tear slipping down your cheek as you took in the information.

"I'm sorry." Sam muttered, his face full of compassion and understanding. "It's always hard. Hearing that you died, and somehow were brought back."

"Wait, you mean it's happened to you to?" You asked, confused. 

Sam nodded. "It's happened to all of us. Dean more than others. It's never easy. But now we need to figure out who brought you back, and why they kept their memories from you." 

"Well, it wasn't me, so maybe you should check with your angel friend." Crowley said. "And if you don't mind, I would like to stay and see how this all ends. After all, Y/N was my pet first."

"Why would the angels bring back a demon?" Dean asked, joining everyone back at the table. 

"So it's true then. I was really a Demon?" You question, shivering at the thought that you could have once been evil, or still even was and didn't realize it.

Dean grasped your hand in his. "Yeah you were. But you weren't like any other demons. You were good, kind."

Crowley coughed, the chick flick moments annoying him. "Dean, why don't you summon your friend." 

Shaking his head at Crowley, Dean complied. "Hey Cas, buddy, wherever you are, we need your help. So get your feathery ass down here pronto."

You watched in amazement as Dean did a prayer unlike anything you would have ever thought you would have heard. "And that will work?"

Dean shrugged. "It has before."

"Hello Dean." A deep, gravelly voice behind you said, and you quickly swiveled your head, your gaze now on a tall man with dark hair, wearing a trench coat with a suit underneath.


	36. What Now

For some reason, you felt afraid of the man standing in front of you, your body instantly tensing up, and you were ready to run for your room at his slightest move.

Dean felt you tense up next to him, noticing how you were perched on the edge of your seat, ready to run at an any moment. Placing a comforting hand on your knee, he left it there while he addressed who you figured had to be Cas. How he got in the room without you hearing was a mystery, but you weren't worried about that right now.

"Thanks for coming Cas. Come sit down." Dean told him, pointing to the chair next to Crowley. You watched as Cas frowned down at Crowley, before he sat across from you.

"What did you need Dean. Is it about Y/N?" Cas started off, but Crowley answered him instead. 

"Yes Cas, of course it's about her. She's the only one that's recently died, and been brought back." Crowley said sarcastically, and you knew there was no love lost between these two.

Cas looked at you then, deeply, and you felt yourself squirming in your seat, his gaze uncomfortable.  "Hmm, she's no longer a Demon." Cas murmured, surprised.

"How can you guys tell with just a look that I was a Demon?" You asked curiously. 

Cas shrugged his shoulders, like it wasn't a big deal, the movement seeming new and a little uncomfortable for him, as if he wasn't used to human gestures. "I'm an angel, I can sense things like that." Was all he said.

You laughed, suddenly amused. "So that's why you guys keep glaring at each other. An angel, and the king of hell, sitting side by side. So if we have angels and demons, do all the other monsters exist too?" 

Cas squinted his eyes at you in confusion. "That's correct. But you should know that, you've been hunting them with Sam and Dean."

That partially explained how you knew the men then, since they were being so tight lipped about everything. Maybe you could get this angel alone to find out more, you thought to yourself, your unease around him lifting. 

"Cas, she came back, was dropped in the middle of Denver, with no clue who she was, or anything." Dean explained.

Cas nodded his head. "But how did you get back here?" He asked.

You shrugged your shoulders, still not completely sure what had brought you back here. "I just felt like this was where I needed to be. I had no idea why, but it felt right."

"So Cas, did you bring her back?" Sam brought up the million dollar question, one you weren't sure if you wanted to know. Because if he didn't bring you back, and Crowley hadn't, then who did? Who was more powerful than an angel and the king of hell to bring you back?

Your heart stopped when Cas shook his head negatively. "I'm sorry Dean, but it wasn't me."

"Well if it wasn't you, and it wasn't Crowley, then who the hell was it?" Dean asked, anger lacing his words. You just sat there, too confused and exhausted from everything happening to be upset.

Cas stood up, and came to stand in front of you. "I am not sure, but I would like to help. May I?" He asked, holding his fingers up. You leaned away from him, not trusting him, unsure what he meant. "I just want to reach into your mind, to see if your memories are still there, try to bring them to the surface. If you have them back, maybe it will shed light on who did this."

You still stayed as far away as possible, scared that it would hurt, or something worse, maybe even kill you. "How do I know this won't hurt, or turn me into a vegetable?"

Cas squinted at you. "Why would I turn you into a vegetable? Do you want to be a vegetable?"

"Cas, she meant that you would fry her brain, make it so she's just a shell of herself, unable to move or talk." Sam explained for you.

"Oh." Cas replied, your comment finally making sense to him. "Well, it will probably hurt, after all you were a Demon and now as a human it will be hard to hold all those memories. As for a vegetable,  I don't think that will happen, but I can't say for certain."

"It's your choice Y/N." Dean told you.

Taking the hand that was still resting on your knee, you turned it, until your palms were touching, your fingers interlaced. "But, if I don't take this chance, I won't ever know what was between us." You softly said.

Dean smiled at you, a small smile that didn't even reach his eyes, before cupping your face. "I know. But we can always try to start over. I would rather try than to see you hurt."

You looked at Sam, then Crowley, knowing these men were important in your life, frustrated because you couldn't remember how. Making your mind up, you turned to Cas. "I've decided. Please try."

"Y/N..." Dean started, but you stopped him.

 

"It's my choice. Seeing all of you here, ready to help me, a person who doesn't even remember you made me realize that I'm not really living right now. I'm just a shell, and I want to try to fix that. Even if it doesn't work, at least I've tried."

Cas nodded at you, seemingly pleased with your choice. "Do you want to do this here, or maybe in one of the rooms where you might be comfortable?" Cas asked, which caused Dean to narrow his eyes at his friend.

"Maybe you should restate that, Cas." Dean growled, jealous.

Cas swallowed thickly, before explaining "I'm afraid she might faint, and I don't want her to get hurt."

Standing up, you placed your hand on Cas' shoulder. "It's alright Cas, I understand, and so does Dean. Now follow me, I know of a room we can use."


	37. Pressure

"You can use my room." Dean said, and you walked beside him, while the rest fell in line behind you. Dean stopped in front of the door, checking to see who had followed before opening it.

"Crowley, you don't have to stay." Dean said, before opening it and stepping inside., waiting for everyone before shutting it.

"I know squirrel, but I want to. I'm very invested in my princess here, and I want to see what happens." He explained, taking his place in the corner, far away from the bed.

Cas lead you over to the bed, and you sat down on it, with Dean standing next to Cas. Both Sam and Crowley stayed at the back of the room, out of the way.

"If you lay down this will be easier." Cas told you, and you complied. "Does anyone have a belt, or a strap of leather for her to bite into, to help with the pain?"

Crowley nodded, and with a snap, he had a thick piece of leather in his hand. He handed it to Dean, who looked down at it, his face unreadable. 

"Are you sure you want to go through with this? I've get shot, stabbed, beaten to a pulp, but I'm not sure I can handle seeing you going though this much pain. What if I lose you again?" Dean said, just loud enough that you could hear but no one else could.

Taking the strap from his hand, you lean forward and press your lips to his cheek. "And that's why I want to do this. I know I'm already falling for you, probably for the second time, but I need to remember our relationship from before hand. It feels like a major part of me is missing, and I know our relationship won't be complete until I can remember." You whispered into his ear.

"But I wasn't always a good person, and I did some things I'm not proud of. Things that might ruin any chance I might have with you." Dean explained, and your heart bled for the torment showing in his eyes, how much he believed what he said was true.

You knew Dean was rough around the edges, even though you hadn't known him very long. But you knew that you would fight to have a relationship with him, and it would take something horrific to change your mind. "I know we can work through anything." You said before swinging your legs up onto the bed and laying down. "Because I already love you." You told him before nodding at Cas and placing the piece of leather in your mouth. 

Dean went to hold your hand, but Cas shook his head at him. "I don't want to take the chance that anything might transfer between the two of you." He explained. 

Dean nodded, but you could tell he wasn't happy. He moved over to where Sam was standing,  his brother patting him on the back in support. 

Cas began pulling his trench coat off, along with his suit coat before rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up. Looking down at you, he explained what he was about to do. "I'm going to place two fingers on your forehead, and at first gauge how hard it will be to get your memories back, or if it's even possible. You will feel the intrusion, and it won't be comfortable. If I can retrieve your memories, it will be even worse. There is always the possibility that you might not be able to withstand the pressure and pain."

Shaking with fear, you nodded at him, telling him you were ready, before glancing once more at Dean, needing to take in his features again in case it was the last time you would ever see him.

He had the sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up, his arms crossed against his chest. His legs were spread wide, his stance extremely masculine. He had stubble growing on his chin, his hair standing up more than usual from the fact that he kept running his hands through it. His full lips were pressed together, his discomfort showing in them and the tightness of his shoulders. 

Giving him a reassuring smile, you turned your attention back to Cas, who had his hand ready above your head. Taking a deep breath, you focused on his fingers slowly moving down, before pressing right in the middle of your forehead. 

At first you didn't feel anything, but soon the pressure started to build, right behind your eyes, causing your vision to go blurry. Closing your eyes, you wanted to turn your head trying to relieve some of the pressure,  but Cas told you to stay still.

The pressure soon turned to pain, it felt as if someone was drilling in your brain, and you cried out, thrashing your body around, trying to get away from all the pain.

"Someone hold her still!" You vaguely heard Cas yell, and before you knew it you were completely immobile, but it didn't feel like anyone was touching you. "Thanks Crowley!"

You were completely frozen, except for your head which Cas held still with his grip. You could feel the too intense pressure and pain, the tears trailing down your cheek, your muscles clenched as you tried to right out the pain, your jaw aching as you bit down on the leather.

"I have to dig deeper!" Cas said, and whatever pain you thought you were feeling was nothing to the pain now. A scream broke out from between your lips, your head in agony, your skull wanting to split in two from the pressure. It was too much to handle, and you gladly let the darkness overtake you.


	38. Pure

A great brightness shown beyond your eyes, brighter than anything you had ever seen or felt in your lifetime. Your eyes strained against it, a silent battle, wanting to see what was out there but knowing it might it hurt. Your body felt light, free, as if you were no longer held down by gravity. It was if you were a separate entity, no longer held down by normal humanity.

Maybe this was what death was like, the bright light in front of you, the feeling of weightlessness. Maybe Case hadn't known what he was doing and pushed too far, and your body succumbed to the pain.  You were disappointed, you weren't ready to leave life, and Dean behind again. 

"Come Y/N, open your eyes." A voice spoke, one that you had never heard before. It was a man's voice, one that was soothing and calm. 

Slowly, your eyes opened, and at first all you could see what a bright yellow, almost white light. But as your eyes became accustomed to being open, the light started to fade away, a face taking form in front of you.

Scooting up, you noticed you were on a pure white lounge, in a small room, all four walls a blank pearly white, with no pictures, windows or doors to break up the whiteness.

"Where am I?" You asked, starting to worry a little. The last you could remember was Cas prodding through your mind, and now here you were.

"Don't worry, you haven't gone anywhere. We are in your subconscious." He said, and you turned to look at him, wondering who could be powerful enough to travel into your mind.

"Are you a reaper?" You asked, taking in his dark brown curly hair threaded with gray,  blue eyes, and stubble along his chin. He was dressed in a nice suit, but even then he had a slight  disheveled air about him.

"No I'm not." He replied. "Quite far from it actually, I give life, not take it away." 

"What do you want with me?" You asked him, still unsure as to whether you should trust him or not.

He was sitting next to you, on an upholstered white chair, threaded through with silver and blue. "I've been interested in you for a long time Y/N. Even before you become a Demon. Which I am terribly sorry about. What do you remember?"

Closing your eyes, your memories came back easily. Memories of your previous life, and Steven, how you traded your life for his. Memories of being a Demon, of Crowley and all the evilness you had seen and subjected to. You smiled as the memories of Sam and Dean came flying by, the best memories you had. Then the memories of the fight against Ebony, and your death.

Your eyes flashing open, you stared at the stranger. "But wait, I was dead! Ebony killed me. How can I be alive again?" You asked.

He shrugged, a slight smile on his face. "I wasn't ready for you to be dead yet." 

You were so confused, your head felt like it was spinning around, with all this new information, along with the memories. It was a lot to take in. "Can you please explain?" You asked.

"Of course." He replied. "You see, your mother was very important to me. One of my grandchildren, I guess you could say. I know you're not supposed to have favorites, but her mom was one of mine, and I looked away when she had a fling with a human. It's usually frowned upon but I couldn't tell her no."

"So my mom isn't fully human?" You asked, not sure what the other half of her could be.

"No, she wasnt. She was half angel, which means you have some angel floating about in there. That's why I'm surprised you could actually become a demon, I wasn't sure that was even possible. Imagine my surprise."

"So you knew about me, but you didn't try to help?" You asked, upset that this man had done nothing to help you.

He shrugged once again. "I wanted to see what would happen. You didn't have enough angel juice in you to live this long, and I really needed you to meet and fall in love with Dean Winchester."

You just shook your head, still confused. "So you knew about me, but did nothing because you wanted to see if I could really become a demon so I could live in this day and age to love Dean?" You repeated, making sure you had everything correct.

"Bingo!" He said excitedly. "I knew this wouldn't be too hard for you to understand. If you hadn't been able to stay a demon, I would have figured something else out."

"But why? Why was it so important that I fall in love with Dean?" You asked, hating the fact that your love was destined. Does that mean it was even real?

He stood up, placing his hands in his pockets of his suit pants, pushing the suit coat back. "It wasn't that I wanted you to fall in love with him, I just wanted the both of you to be happy. You both have gone through so much, and I knew you two were destined to be together. I just wasn't sure how. But I needed you there to help defeat Ebony."

You sighed in relief that your love wasn't exactly forced, even though it was apart of destiny. "But who are you? Why bring me back after we defeated Ebony? Wouldn't it have been easier to let me die?"

"Y/N, of course it would have been easier, but it wouldn't have been right. You weren't supposed to die then, that wasn't part of my plan." He answered part of your question.

"So now what? Am I going to die now?" You asked, dreading his answer.

"Well, that's up to you. I hid your memories farther back than I had meant to, and it was very hard on you when Cas tried to retrieve them. The journey back is going to be hard, and your going to have to fight. But if you are done, if you are tired of fighting, then yes, you will die now, and live in a place specially reserved for you in heaven." He told you.

"Heaven? How can I go to heaven? I was a Demon, I lived in Hell, and I killed people. My soul isn't pure enough to go to heaven." You exclaimed. 

He shook his head at you. "None of that matters. Your soul is one of the most pure souls ever created, thanks to my lovely daughter, and her daughter. No matter what you went though, it wouldn't change that fact. That's why it was so hard on you, and why, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't turn you evil."

You had always known you weren't completely evil, but deep down you had been afraid that your soul was tarnished, no longer the sweet girl but a darker, more devilish woman in her place. It was hard to believe that your soul could be one of the most pure ones ever in existence, after all that you had seen and done. 

"So my soul is pure, that's why being a Demon was so hard? But how can I be human now?" You questioned. 

"That doesn't matter. None of this really matters. What matters is what you are planning on doing. So much of your life has been out of your control. I'm going to leave this last piece to you. What is it going to be? Live a human life with Dean, or live in safety and comfort in heaven?"


	39. Choices

The man in front of you slowly faded away, along with the white room, in it's place nothing but darkness. His words echoing around, telling you to choose. You knew what you would choose, but for a moment you wondered if you were making the right choice. Of course you loved Dean, and would always love him. But here was a chance you never would have thought you would be given. A chance to be free, to live in heaven, in a place reserved specifically for you. If you chose heaven you would be free from ridicule, from heart break. Who's to say that you chose Dean, and in the end he walked away from you, his job of getting your memory back done.

You knew that you were probably turning away a good opportunity, that many people would think you were crazy for choosing the love of a man over a guaranteed spot in heaven. But Dean wasn't any man, and you believed he loved you as much as you loved him.

"How do I return?" You yelled, but it just echoed in the pitch black, your question going unanswered. Sighing, you tried to think back to everything you had read, or learned, trying to think of something that would help in this current predicament.

However, as a Demon, you had never been privy to lessons about visits from higher beings, and what to do to fight back if you were stuck in limbo. So, you were on your own, with no idea how to get out of your own mind, and what would happen if you couldn't figure it out.

Closing your eyes, you thought of Dean, bringing his face to your mind, concentrating on how his freckles spread out over his nose and cheeks, the way his lips would pout when he was deep in thought, the way his green eyes would darken just before he kissed you. You visioned the way his shoulders would flex under his flannel shirt, the way his fingers would lightly brush up and down your arm as he held you close. Your time together might not have been the smoothest, or easiest, but there were many moments that you looked on fondly, and you were hoping that concentrating on the man you loved more than anything would help bring you back.

You thought as hard as you could, concentrating on the first time Dean had kissed you. It was after your first hunt, and you were both giddy from the thrill of it. Sam had already gone back into the motel room, but Dean had gently grasped your arm, pulling you back until you were standing beside him, both of you leaning against the Impala. 

"You did good back there." He told you proudly, and you blushed under the compliment.

"Thanks." You said quietly, standing there next to him, your heart beating in anticipation. The two of you had been flirting around each other all week, and you weren't sure where he was heading with this.

Turning to face you, you followed suit, until you were both staring at each other, neither one ready to make the first move. Feeling self conscious, you tilted your head down, your hair covering your red cheeks, ashamed that you were still that girl from the 1800s who thought men had to make the first move, and that kissing should only be done when you were married.

It was then you felt gentle fingers lifting your chin up, and before you could do more than blink, Dean's lips were against yours, surprisngly smooth against yours, a soft, gentle kiss that only lasted a moment before he pulled back, not wanting to rush you.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while now." He said quietly, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

It was then you heard a sound, voices actually, ones that didn't quite belong in that memory. As it slowly slipped away, the voices became clearer, and you listened in, still stuck in the darkened room, unable to completely make your way back yet.

"Damn it Cas, when is she going to wake up?" Dean asked, his voice firm and mad, but you could detect a sense of sadness and despair that would be hidden to most people.

You heard shuffling, and the side of your bed sinking down, before someone spoke next. "I'm sorry Dean, I've never done this before, I don't know what to expect. It might be days, or weeks. Or she might not wake up at all."

Something shattered, and you figured Dean must have thrown something against the wall, his frustration turning to rage. "It's already been two days Cas. I'm not sure how much more I can take." He said quietly.

You tried to reach out to him, to let him know you were still with him, that you were fighting to get back, but the darkness and quiet soon overpowered your consciousness, and you were once again a prisoner in your own mind.

You wish you had something that you could throw, wanting to release your emotions like Dean had done. You had been so close hearing his deep, rumbling voice, but before you could do anything you had been pulled back.

"What do I have to do?" You yelled, annoyed that your words echoed around you, knowing there was no one there to answer you. Sinking to your knees, you held your head, tears falling down your cheeks as helplessness and frustration found their way into your very being.

"Come on Y/N, don't be so stupid. Crying isn't going to solve this." You scolded yourself, disappointed that you had stopped fighting so easily. 

As you sat there, an unwelcome memory flashed before your eyes, when Dean had found out that you were a Demon. You tried pushing it away, convinced that it wouldn't help your cause any, but it wouldn't budge.

It flashed through your mind, as fresh as if it happened yesterday. You could remember the confusion on Dean's face as Cas held his blade to your neck, the hope in his eyes that you would say something to prove it wasn't true. The look of disbelief and hurt that had flashed across his face would haunt you for the rest of your life. You wish things had gone differently, but if you could do it all over again, you still would have lied at the beginning. If you hadn't, you probably wouldn't be in the predicament you were in now. Your body would be rotting along the road somewhere, instead of laying in the bunker. You would have never gotten to know the sweet, caring nature that Dean was so good at hiding beneath his rough hunter exterior. Sam would have never become your best friend, and you would have never known what true happiness was, even though it only lasted a short while. 

While you sat there, the horrible memory running through your mind, you slowly became aware that your surrounding had slowly changed, you were no longer sitting on a cold, blank floor, you felt heavy and weighted down. Your arms wouldn't move, and you ached all over. As you took stock of your situation, a voice sounded from beside you.

"I don't even know if you can hear me. I don't even know why I'm doing this, it feels like I'm talking to myself. But Y/N, if you're in there, please don't leave me. I know our lives, and our relationship haven't been the greatest, that I've pushed you away too many times. But I just got you back, I can't lose you again." Dean said, his voice low and strained. You wanted to move your arm, to hold his hand and let him know you weren't going to leave him. But your body had been immobile for so long, your muscles weren't following orders like they should.

You wanted to scream, to open your eyes, to do something to give Dean hope, but no matter how hard you struggled, you stayed still and silent.

You, however, did feel a slight pressure on your hand, and you knew Dean had placed his hand over yours. "Y/N, please. I love you. I know I've been a jerk to you, and I don't deserve you, but I will do anything, as long as you come back to me." He begged, and that's when you felt it. A slight twitch of your fingers, not much motion, but enough that Dean must have felt it, because his fingers tightened around yours.


	40. Awake

"Y/N?" You heard Dean ask, his voice filled with disbelief and hope. "Honey, was that you, or am I imagining things?"

You tried it again, just the slightest wiggle of your fingers, and it worked again.

"Sam, Cas! Get your asses in here!" He yelled, pulling his hand from yours, and if you could have spoken you would have moaned at the lack of content.

You fought hard, knowing you were so close, that if only you could open your eyes you could see Dean's beautiful face, but your body was still stubborn, and weak from lack of use, and you knew it would take time for it to follow your orders once again.

Your senses were in fine working order, and you could hear the sound of a door being crashed open and footsteps pounding into the room.

What's wrong?" Sam's voice asked, concerned and you knew he was imagining the worst.

"She moved! Her hand moved!" Dean said excitedly. 

"Dean, it's been over a week. I'm pretty sure she's not coming back to us. Maybe you were imagining things." Cas said, not paying any attention to the fact that he was being brutally honest.

"Dumb angel, even I can tell there is something different about her." A different voice said, one that you couldn't believe was still there. You figured after over a week, Crowley would be back in hell, completely forgetting you.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, as you twitched your finger again. "See, she did it again!"

"She's back, or at least her spirit is. For a while there I was worried, she was just a shell of herself. Now, we wait. To see if she wakes up, and if her mind isn't scrambled."

While he had been talking, someone had placed their hand on your forehead, just two fingers.  "Yes, I see what you mean now. There is a different feeling to her."

"Now what? We wait for her to wake up? It's been over a week Cas. I don't want to wait any longer! " Dean argued, and you pushed yourself, trying to open your eyes, or move your leg, anything to show that you were here, listening to their conversation, but no matter how hard you tried, it wouldn't work.

"It feels like she is struggling." Cas explained, his fingers still upon your forehead. "She is fighting hard, but is losing the battle." 

"What the hell does that mean Cas? Is she going to stay this way, forever in a coma?" Dean asked, his words thick with unspoken emotion. 

"I don't know. But let me try something." He said, before pressing down on your forehead, filling your head with a bright light. It didn't hurt, it was as if sunshine was shining through your entire being, filling you with warmth and strength, stretching until it completely filled you. As soon as it started, it was gone, and you were once again bathed in darkness. 

"Cas, what did you do?" Dean asked, as your whole body seemed to start twitching as if you were having a seizure. It didn't hurt, it just seemed as if your body was getting used to having a soul control it once again.

"I just helped her along, that's all. This should only last a moment." He said, and he was right. Almost as soon as it started, it stopped and your body was still again. 

This time when you tried to move, it was easy, even though your entire body was still extremely sore and tired. The bed beside you dipped down with someone's weight, and a warm hand grasped yours. "It's just me Dean. Sweetheart, I know you can hear me. Please wake up." He pleaded with you, and you opened your eyes, disappointed when you realized he wasn't even looking at your face. His gaze was down, looking at where your hands were combined.

"Dean." You tried saying, but it came out hoarse and unintelligible.  Still, Dean heard it, and he turned his intense green eyes on you. 

"Y/N!" He exclaimed,  tightening his grip on your hand. You smiled up at him, almost in tears at the fact that you were seeing Dean again. For awhile there you had feared you would never see him again.

"Y/N!" Sam exclaimed, and soon you had four male heads staring down at you. Sam, Cas and Crowley were all staring at you, their eyes bright with excitement. 

"Guys, step back, give her some breathing room." Dean complained, but you didn't mind. Every one you cared about was in this room with you, and you were ecstatic that you were seeing them again. You had known from the beginning you had made the right choice, but seeing them all smiling down at you reaffirmed the fact.

"Hey guys." You rasped, your voice sounding nothing like normal.

"Hey princess." Crowley answered, smiling down at you, and you thought you had never seen the King of Hell so happy.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked, concerned.

Smiling at him, you tried to answer. "Sore, and exhausted. Like I've been fighting a battle for over a year."

It was then Dean, who had been sitting beside you the entire time brought a glass of water to your lips, tipping it so the cool liquid slid down your throat. It felt amazing, and you would have drained the entire thing, but before you knew it, Dean was pulling it away.

"Better?" He asked, a gentle smile upon his lips, and you wanted to pull his head down to yours, and press your lips tightly to his.

You nodded instead, and watched as the other three men stepped back, out of your view. You pushed your hands against the bed, trying to push yourself up, but you were too weak, and you went nowhere.

"Here, let me help you." Dean told you before gently grabbing you under the srms, pulling you until you were leaning against the headboard. This way you could see everyone, and the room. You were still in Deans room, and you took in how messy it was. Clothes were thrown everywhere, with plates and beer bottles piled on every available surface.

You looked towards Dean. "I'm sorry." You told him.

Wrinkling his eyebrows at you, he had to ask. "For what?"

You shrugged, the effort exhausting you. "For keeping you from your room, and your bed." 

"It doesn't matter. All that matter was, is, getting you better. Besides, you belong in here, with me." He told you, the last words spoken softly, but truthfully.

It was at this, that the other men stood up, and started heading to the door, everyone that is, but Crowley. "Crowley." Sam said, nodding his head to the door.

"Shut it Moose." Crowley snarked, before coming to stand next to you. "It's good to see you my dear. But don't worry, I'm not leaving you to the mercy of Moose and Squirrel quite yet."

He then turned, and followed Sam and Cas out the door, Sam shutting it behind them, leaving you and Dean alone. 

"So, really, how are you?" Dean asked, hoping that now that you were alone you would answer truthfully.

"I'm exhausted. It was such a struggle coming back, and for a while there I was afraid I wouldn't make it."

He nodded, before looking down, unable to look you in the eye anymore. "And do you, what do you remember?" He asked, finally getting to the million dollar question.


	41. Resolution

"What do you remember?" Dean asked you again, his voice low, his tone uncertain. He was still staring down where your hands lay on his lap, joined together. 

"Everything." You replied, uncertain how he would take the news. 

"Everything?" He asked, repeating you, his voice still low and strangely calm.

You nodded, but he couldn't see, he still hadn't look up, and you were starting to worry, wondering if he would leave you, done with his duty of helping a person in need.

"Yep." You said, tears forming in your eyes at the thought that you might have to say goodbye to Dean, knowing that you had given up on your chance of heaven to be with a man who didn't want to be with you. It was hard, and it hurt more than any ache your body was feeling right now.

"It's alright Dean. I understand." You told him, and it was those words that got his attention, pulling his gaze from his lap, his green eyes hooded as they looked at you for the first time since you were alone.

"You understand what?" He asked, and you had to take a deep breath. You weren't ready for this conversation, but you weren't sure you would ever be.

"I understand that you only helped me when I had no memories because you felt obligated. I know what I did, what I was, is too much to get past even though you seemed to try. But I want to let you know that I'm not going to hold you to anything." You said, the words almost jumbling together in your haste to get them out and over with.

During your speech, Dean sat there, his mouth open, but no words coming out, never stopping you to let you know you were wrong. It was then the tears fell, you were too exhausted to hold them back any longer. The tears falling down your cheeks seemed to shake Dean out of his stupor, because he closed his mouth, then opened it again to speak. "What are you talking about?"

"I just want you to know that I'm not expecting anything more from you. You helped me when I needed help, even though you didn't have to. I can go, far away, so you don't have to see me anymore." You told him, hiccuping through your tears.

"Shh." Was his reply, before he reached up and wiped the tears from your cheek, his touch soft and sweet. "You're being silly. Of course I don't want you to go anywhere. If anybody should be leaving, and not coming back it's me."

"You?" You asked as you tried to reign in your tears.

"Yes, I'm the one who put you through so much. I was such a jerk to you, and I have no idea how to make it up to you. To make things right. As you laid there, in the bed, not moving, I couldn't help but think how much better off you would be if you didn't remember me. You could go on, living a new life, without a screw up by your side." He told you, standing up off the bed, pacing the room.

"But, I was the Demon, and I lied to you for  the beginning. How can I ever expect you to trust me, when I lied to you from day one? You were only doing what was in your nature, I could never hate you for that." You responded. 

He stopped pacing, and turned to face you, his hand running through his hair, as emotions he usually kept hidden away plowed through his body. "Yeah, but I should have never treated you that way. It wasn't right, and every day I beat myself up for it. What if I had pushed too hard? You almost died once, because of me. Then you actually died, and that was because Sam and I drug you into the war with Ebony!"

It was then you tried rising out of bed, tired with Dean's self hatred, wanting to do nothing more than wrap your arms around him, comforting him. Sliding your legs out of bed, you placed your feet on the cold floor, and put your weight on them. Your legs were too weak, and you felt yourself falling to the ground, unable to support yourself.

"Damn it Y/N! Why are you trying to climb out of bed? You're too weak!" Dean yelled at you, as he grasped you in his arms, keeping you from tumbling to the floor. He gently placed you back on the bed, and you sighed in annoyance.

"I was going to march over there and smack some sense into your head." You muttered, furious that your recovery had turned into a battle of whose fault everything was. 

But your stumbling had an effect on both of you, calming the both of you down. Dean sat back down next to you, sighing. "I really wish we could start over. I hate to say this, but it was really nice when you didn't have your memories, because it was like we were starting fresh. You didn't remember all the things I said, or did to you, but yet you were falling for me all over again."

"Yeah, and I wasn't a Demon." You muttered, a little hurt.

"Hey, that's not what I meant!" He replied, hurt. "Was I hurt and furious at first when I found out you were a Demon? Of course, but then I slowly got over it, once you stayed and helped us, when you didn't need to. I fell in love with your soul, how beautiful and good it was, and you being a Demon shouldn't have deterred me in the first place."

"So, now what?" You asked. "I know know we both have issues, but maybe together we can work them out. Because I fought hard to come back. I wasn't wanting to come back to an empty, loveless life. I fought because I wanted a life with you."

"You make me want to be a better person. And I will do everything in my power to make sure you know you are loved." Dean told you, his eyes sincere. 

You smiled at him, glad that some of your issues had been solved, amazed that this brave, rough around the edges hunter was being so open with his emotions.

"Now that all of that is out of the way, do you want to talk about what you just went through?" He asked, a smile on his face, your hand once again grasped in his, both of you happy.


	42. Forever

You were too busy looking down at your hands, beyond grateful that things had turned out in your favor, to hear what Dean had asked. Thoughts of how happy you were, that you had been given a precious gift, ran through your head, bringing a stray tear to fall down your cheek.

"Woah, what are you crying for?" Dean asked, seriously confused at the fact that you had been so happy one moment, but now you were crying the next.

Shaking your head, you wiped it away, smiling at Dean, confusing him even more. "I'm just happy. A year ago, I was a Demon, who wanted to be good, but was lonely and miserable. Now here I am, human, given a second chance at life, with the man I love. I can't believe it."

He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, before pulling you into a engulfing hug, your head pressed tightly against his chest. You felt his fingers running through your hair, his words fluttering stray pieces as he talked with his head bent down. "You deserve this, more than anyone I know. You are a great person, an amazing pure hearted soul who deserves a chance at a happy, love filled life. Please believe it."

You nodded, knowing that you might not believe it yet, but you would make it a goal for yourself. "So before I got all emotional, what were you trying to say?" You asked, trying to turn the conversation away from you and your low self confidence. 

"I was asking if you wanted to talk about what you went through? I know that sometimes, after an experience like that, most people want to keep it all bottled up, never talking about it. I never seem to talk about things like that, unless it's to you, or Sammy. But I just want you to know that I'm here, if you do." He told you.

"No I will talk about it." You told him, wanting to hide nothing from him from now on. He meant the world to you, and if the two of you were starting fresh, than there should be no lies between you. 

"Okay." He replied simply, before turning until his full attention was on you. 

"I don't remember much. When Cas first started, there was a pressure building in my head, and soon it became unbearable. I really thought for a moment there I was going to die. And then for a moment, I thought I had." You started. "After all that pain, I woke up in a white room, with very little furniture, and no way in or out. I really thought I was dead."

"Where do you think you were?" He asked.

You shrugged, "I dunno. I think either in my mind, or in heaven." 

"Heaven?" He asked, looking a little confused. You didn't blame him, after all, just a short while ago you had been a Demon, who would have thought you would have made it to heaven.

"It seemed like heaven. Everything was so pure, and clean. Then there was a man, but he never gave me his name." You started with your story again. "He seemed nice, dressed in a suit, his hair dark and curly with gray running through it."

"And he didn't say his name?" Dean confirmed, and you nodded.

"I know this is going to sound weird, but I really thought he was God. The way he held himself, and the things he talked about, he seemed like what I would picture God." You answered, hoping Dean wouldn't poke fun at you for that.

"Go on." Was all he said, not saying a word about the God like figure.

"Well, we talked about my family, and why I was never a good Demon. And why I was brought back. My grandma was an angel, his daughter, and she had my mom, who then had me, so I still had a trace of Angel left in me. Enough that the evilness of a Demon couldn't overtake my pure soul."

"Wow." Dean said, not wanting to interrupt you anymore than necessary.

You continued. "He said he wished he could have done more for me, and returning me when I died as a human was his way of trying to make things right. But then he gave me a choice." 

When you stopped talking, Dean raised his eyebrow at you, wondering why you stopped talking. "What was the choice he gave you?"

Taking a deep breath you told him. "He told me that you and I were always destined to love each other, that's why he didn't interfere when I became a Demon. He knew it would let me live long enough to come in contact with you. His choice was I could come back, and live a life with you, as a human. Or he had made me a special place in Heaven."

Dean's face remained calm throughout your entire speech, and you wondered how he was going to react to the fact that the two of you were destined to be together.

"I've never cared for destiny crap before, but if it's what brought us together than I don't mind. But for the other thing. You chose me over a special place in Heaven?" He asked in shock.

A nod was your answer, watching as Dean ran his hands through his hair. "But why? You gave up an opportunity at something most hunters don't get. Especially hunters that used to be a Demon! Why give all of that up, for me?" 

"Because I love you." You said simply, and Dean pulled you to him, crushing you in a hug, his arms tightly around yours, his chin resting on top of your head. "Silly girl. I love you, you silly, brave woman, so much it scares me."

You decided to finish your story. "My choice was easy. I knew that living in Heaven by myself would be more torturous than anything I had ever gone through. I couldn't leave you. So that's what I told him, and I had to fight my way back. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to."

"That's my girl. Always a fighter." Dean said, his cheek now pressed to your hair, and the both of you stayed that way, content to stay in each other's arms for the time being, grateful that you had been given a second chance at life, and at love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I think I may have just finished this book, and it breaks my heart because I've had so much fun writing this!! I hope you enjoyed it, but keep a look out because I might write an epilogue. Thank all of you for reading and commenting on this book, it means the world to me!!**


	43. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I just wanted to add a little something. Nothing big or spectacular, but a fluffy ending. I hope you all enjoy it!!

2 years later

You stared down at your belly, disbelief evident in your face as the doctor confirmed the news. "Congratulations Miss. You're pregnant."

Pregnant? You had never imagined you would ever hear that sentence. Life had been too hectic, and then as a Demon it was impossible, but now here you were, pregnant, with Dean Winchester's child.

Life had been great ever since that one day, when you had gotten your memories back, and your life. Ever since that day, you and Dean had been inseparable, well you, Dean and Sam. The three of you lived happily in your weird little bunker, an awkward, but close family, one that involved a certain angel and the king of hell. 

At first Sam and Dean hadn't been very happy about little Crowley have free reign on visiting rights, but you had been adamant, and soon they had given up, seeing how much Crowley cared for you, and how he had never tried to do anything while visiting.

As time passed, your relationship with Dean had grown closer, the gap forged by your lie and his reaction long gone, and you were now closer than ever. But you still felt nervous, and scared that he wouldn't be happy about this next stage in life.

"Really, are you sure?" You asked the Doctor, who gave you a patient smile.

"Yes, I am sure. About eight weeks along I would say. Now, I would like to have you schedule another visit, where we can get a clearer picture. But for right now everything, and everyone seems healthy." He told you, and you left the room in a daze.

Dean was waiting for you in the parking lot, bouncing his fingers on the steering wheel, keeping time with the classic rock currently playing on the radio. When he noticed you leaving the building, he jumped out, rushing over to your side, opening the door. "Everything okay?" He asked, and you could tell he was nervous. None of you visited the doctor unless you were dying, so you knew you had frightened him by making an appointment.

"Peachy." You said, still in shock, and you missed Dean's frown as he shut the door behind you before climbing in behind the steering wheel. You didn't say anything as he drove back home, and as soon as the engine was shut off, you were climbing out, making your way to the room you shared with him.

You could feel his presence behind you, but you still didn't speak a word. Instead you made your way into the bedroom, before sitting on the bed and staring blankly at the wall.

He gently closed the door behind him, before crouching down in front of you. "Sweetheart, what is it? You're starting to scare me." He asked, and his fear snapped you out of your shock.

Reaching up, you placed your hand against his cheek, giving him a gentle smile that seemed to upset him more than calm him down. Standing up, he started pacing back and forth in front of you. "What is it? Are you sick? Because we can find the best doctors, get the best treatments. I don't care if we have to go to some big city. There is no way I'm losing you again." He muttered as he paced.

"Dean." You said, trying to interrupt him, but he was so focused on his mission to help you that he didn't notice.

"Dean!" You said again, louder this time, and he stopped pacing.

"Dean, I'm fine. It's just. I'm pregnant." You finally admitted, and you watched as his face transformed from fear, to shock, to surprise, all within seconds.

"Pregnant?" He echoed, before a smile slowly started, one of the biggest ones you had ever seen on his face. Swooping down, he picked you up, spinning you in his arms. "Are you serious?"

Laughing, you wrapped your arms around him for support. "Dean, put me down!" 

He gently set you down, before pressing his lips against yours. "This is great news!! Why were you so quiet? Aren't you excited?"

Taking a breath, you started explaining. "Of course I'm excited. I just never expected this to happen. First, back in the 1800s, I never expected to have kids. Then, when I was a Demon, it was impossible. It never occurred to me that I'm human again, and that I could get pregnant." 

Dean didn't say anything, he just pulled you back into his arms. "This is amazing news. I am so excited. You're going to be a great mother." He told you proudly.

The shock slowly ebbed away, and in it's place an excitement to match Dean's. You were going to be a mother! After everything you had gone through, all the pain, all the despair, you felt as if your life was finally coming around, and the culmination was starting a family with Dean.

"Wait, can we go tell Sammy?" Dean asked, his eyes full of glee, and you laughed, happiness consuming you.


End file.
